My name is John
by princessangelwings
Summary: Harry Potter Atlantis Crossover, with Sheppard as Harry Potter. lots of hurt Comfort and a loads of Shep Whumping! REALLY COMPLETE NOW! sorry
1. Chapter one

This is an Atlantis/ Harry Potter Crossover, Where John Sheppard is Harry Potter. I have had to change the HP timeline to fit it in, so the events of the HP books will have occurred twenty years ago (to fit in Sheppard's age). There is some Character death but not of the main from either HP or Atlantis. Enjoy.

Part 1

His face glistened with sweat as he ran through the forest his wand drawn, ready to attack. The lighting bolt scar on his for head prickled and he knew he was close to his enemy, his prey. His vibrant green eyes darting around the darkness trying to keep track of his friends movements. He had tried to argue with them about joining him in the forest. He did not want them to be hurt or killed fighting his battles but they were adamant.

"We're staying with you Harry" Hermione had said.

"Yeah, mate. We're a team; the DA and we're all coming with you, to fight beside you." Ron Added.

He knew he couldn't argue with them, but he could try and keep them safe, all of them. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Fred and George had all insisted on accompanying him this night to support him in the final showdown with Voldemort.

The Death Eaters had been destroyed weeks before. A team of Aurors, members of the Order and Harry, Ron and Hermione had done what the ministry could not. Some had been captured and were now in Azkaban others had been killed, unwilling to be taken alive.

He had killed two of the Death Eaters himself. They were difficult battles and he very nearly lost, but in the end he had his revenge on Lestrange and Snape. The memory still fresh burned in his mind giving him strength to fight this, the last encounter between Voldemort and the boy who lived.

A scream pierced the night air chasing his memories away. He turned to see flashes of red light, a shadow moved past him and he knew Voldemort was near.

More flashes of light, more shouts from his friends. He stood transfixed as Neville was hit from behind by a flash of bright green light. Neville's body was falling to the ground with a sickening thud. He knew that spell, had dreamt about that spell for years and now one of his closest friends had been killed by it.

"Neville!" his friends name torn from his throat before he could think, giving away his position. But he did not care his legs carried him too slowly across the damp forest floor towards his fallen friend. Before he could reach Neville's side he heard someone running toward them. He looked up and saw Neville's girlfriend Luna running hell for leather. He saw the figure behind her too late to warn her and screamed her name as she dropped to the floor. Her eyes were open wide with shock. He walked calmly toward the figure and saw the blood red slits stare right back at him, challenging him.

"Did you really think you could defeat me? Me! The Dark Lord" Voldemort asked him incredulously.

He didn't even answer but leapt for his enemy catching him off guard. He heard the phoenix songs in his head as a litany of spells were thrown back and forth between the two wizards. He knew he was going too lose; he was no match for Voldemort.

But his fury was strong and his heart swelled with the loss of his friends. Suddenly there was a golden light surrounded him and Voldemort. They were trapped so close to each other that they could reach out and touch but the light prevented them from moving any closer. He saw the fear in his enemy's eyes he did not care; he was lost in his thoughts of his lost friends and relatives.

He wondered briefly if any of his other friends survived but then his scar burst open with such pain he couldn't breathe. All he saw was golden lights and pain. His head could have ripped in two and he would not have been surprised. A voice broke through the mist and the fog of his pain, unfamiliar … "John?"

He knew of no John but he couldn't think about that now, he felt himself shaking, the pain was white hot across his forehead and seeping down into his body making every muscle contract in pain.

"John, you need to wake up now lad."

The golden light was blinding him even through his eye lids. He had to fight it but he couldn't and he was so damned sick of fighting. All he had done since becoming a wizard was fight and try to survive the grief of the people lost to him.

"John lad? It's just a dream, wake up now."

Who the hell was this John? As the pain grew more intense he sensed something, a name… his name… Harry Potter… no, that's not right he'd changed his name years ago. Another wave of pain flooded his body and he found himself breathless once more.

"Colonel Sheppard, Wake up!"…that's it! That was his name… the name he had changed his to so long ago in the distant past.

The fog began to lift and he realised he was lying down on something soft… a bed. He Scar was still ridiculously painful and he had no time to open his eyes or move before he retched. He head was covered by his hands his knees drawn up to his chest, he was shaking, pale and sweaty.

He felt two strong warm hands grip his wrists and pull his hands away from his face. "Colonel? Are you awake now?"

He tried to nod but another wave of nausea hit him and he retched again. He opened his eyes and drank in the soft features of the Atlantis CMO "Carson… I'm okay" he managed to mumble through the pain in his skull.

"You're running a fever, you've just been sick, twice, and we've been trying to wake yea for ten minutes now. I'll decide if you're okay, and you're not!"

He smiled weakly at Carson he was never going to get out of the Doctor's clutches after this. He could hardly tell the good Doctor that it was just his cursed scar that you can't even see anymore and trust me I'll be fine within an hour. He decided to let the man with access to the pointy sharp objects have his way, "alright Dr Beckett, where do you want me?"

"The infirmary, we need to do some test to fine out what's wrong with yea." the Doctor replied with his usual concern and mothering tone.

He sat up, rubbed his forehead for a moment with the palm of his hand then untangled himself from his bed sheets. It was then that he noticed the figures of Drs Weir and McKay lurking in his doorway, he wondered why they were all in his room.

"Er, what are you all doing in my quarters?" he glared at McKay, who glared right back.

"You didn't show up for morning briefing so we came looking for you, only to find you writhing around in your bed shouting about some guy called Neville." McKay folded his arms, daring Sheppard to deny it.

"Oh" was all Sheppard was prepared to say. Standing on wobbly legs he made to move towards the door intending to walk to the infirmary.

"No you don't lad, my nurses have a gurney on the way you look ready to keel over so sit down before you fall down" the Doctors hand was on his arm and he allowed himself to be lead back to the bed, where he sat, waiting for Beckett's nurses.

Beckett finally let him free after using his arm for a pin cushion for over two hours. He decided to grab some lunch at in the mess after his ordeal in the infirmary. He wandered where the sudden 'dream-attack' had come from. He'd had them before but that was almost another lifetime ago when he'd been a teenager before he had joined the USAF.

His old scar prickled, making him wince as he stood in line again not something that had happened in twenty years. He got a turkey sandwich and sat drinking his coffee, lost in his thoughts about the past.


	2. Chapter two

Part 2

Colonel John Sheppard was in a surprisingly good mood for a Monday morning. He had not dreamt about his old life for two nights on the trot. He'd managed to convince himself that the whole 'dream-attack' thing was a one off. He put it down to stress and was not expecting any more dreams in the foreseeable future. Well except the normal 'Wraith-killing-everyone-I-care-for' nightmares, but he could cope with them. Wraith nightmares did not leave his head pounding and his last meal making a comeback like some dodgy, past it eighties rock band. They just made him want to hit things or get hit by things like Teyla and her sticks.

There was a spring in his step as he made his was to the control room for morning briefing. He waved a jaunty 'hello' to the control staff, who only looked slightly miffed at their commanding military officer's merriment. He greeted his fellow commanders cheerily as he entered the briefing room, "Good morning Elizabeth, Rodney."

"Good Morning John" Elizabeth replied. He wasn't stupid enough to wait for a reply from Rodney who was busy typing away on his laptop.

As Ronon and Teyla entered the room he saw a brilliant flashing silver light descend on the gate room. "What the Hell?" he stood, pulled his handgun from it holster on his thigh and with Ronon and Teyla flanking him walked from the briefing room into the control room.

A small woman with long red hair falling on her shoulders about his age stood by the gate holding an empty bottle of wine. She wore a long emerald robe over jeans and what looked suspiciously like a homemade woolly jumper. The marines in the gate room had their p90's trained on her, they all looked pretty confused. She simply stood there looking around, searching for something or someone a look of wonderment on her freckled face. John's heart caught in his throat and he walked slowly down the stairs his gun down by his side. He felt the others standing beside him, it was Elizabeth who spoke first.

"Hello, my name is Dr Elizabeth Weir; can we help you with something?" Way to go Lizzie he thought, ask the flipping obvious and she was a diplomat?

The woman spoke her voice light and pleasant to his ears, "Oh Hello, I'm Ginny, Ginny Weasley. Pleased to meet you. I'm looking for an old friend I believe he is here, Harry Potter. Do you know him?"

John felt his face flush he was right it was her but she didn't recognise him. Well he had changed a bit over the years and his scar being hidden to the naked eye wouldn't help.

"Ginny?" His voice croaked a bit when he spoke, his stomach deserted him and went back to his room in hiding. He couldn't believe it Ginny here in Atlantis. She'd not changed all that much over the years, oh sure her hair was flecked with grey but so was his but her face was a sweet and open as it had been all those years ago.

"Harry? Is that really you?" she walked towards him stopping just outside his personal space. "Where's your scar? And what happened to your eyes? Your hairs still the same though."

Before he could think of a reply she had stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. He couldn't cope with this, no! He wasn't Harry Potter anymore. He refused to be him again. He felt himself begin to lose it and he pulled sharply out of her embrace. He stood a few feet away from her his head high in defiance. His heart was now on his sleeve in a place it had not been for nearly twenty years.

"My name is John." he stated simply. He saw Rodney's eyes widen with shock. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, she looked like she was about to speak but he continued his explanation to Ginny. "Harry Potter died twenty years ago. I am Colonel John Sheppard of the United States Air Force."

"Wait, are you saying that you know that Potter person?" asked Rodney incredulously.

"He is Harry Potter." Ginny insisted, "I've not seen him for twenty years but I'd know that expression and that hair anywhere."

He had promised himself years ago that it was over. He had become John Sheppard and not looked back, never regretting his decision to leave the wizarding world. John could feel himself begin to panic the flood of memories good and bad were overwhelming. He had ignored his true self for so long and now the wall he had built up over the years were all crashing around him leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"Look, Ginny, I'm not that person anymore. I can't be that person anymore… I won't be"

Ginny looked like someone had just killed her owl and invited the dementors round for afternoon tea. "But we need you… Vol… he's… he's back, Harry." She stuttered over her word still afraid to speak his name.

He felt the blood drain from his face and he dropped the gun that had been in his right hand. The gun clattered to the floor and his marines shot each other scared looks. Your CO does not drop his gun and freak out because some strange looking woman tells him he's someone else and some other dude it back.

"No" he whispered, "he can't be, I killed him, you were there." He looked into her eyes trying to find reassurance but deep down he had known that Voldemort was back. That's what the 'dream-attacks' had been about. That's why his old scar was giving him a headache even now.

"He is back. And we need you. You're the only one who can defeat him. You have to come back with me now." she stepped closer to him and placed her hand on his arm.

At her touch he lost whatever semblance of control he had maintained up to now. He jerked his arm out of her grasp and backed up until he hit the wall.

He could feel himself shaking and he allowed himself to slide down the wall drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. The day had started so well too, he'd even been thinking of letting McKay use him as a glorified light switch he'd felt so good this morning. Now though he rocked himself gently back and forth like some crazy that belonged in a home. Repeating a mantra of "no, he can't be… I can't do it again…" over and over.

He was lost in the pain of his past. There were faces dancing in his mind, so many dead, so many he had loved and lost. He saw his parents in his minds eye as they died trying to save their only son. He saw his Godfather Serious falling through the arch and Lupin being slain by Snape during a fierce battle. He saw his friends; Neville, Luna and George fall to the ground their eyes open, unseeing; dead.

He remembered how broken Fred had been after the last battle. The loss of his twin hit him hard… he remembered thinking at the time that Fred would never get over it. He had not been able to look Fred in the eye since that night in the forest. He doubted even now if he ever could.

He never saw the needle going into his arm. Nor did he notice Elizabeth as she stroked his arm telling him everything would be okay. When the sedative took effect moments later he welcomed the darkness just as he had all those years ago.


	3. Chapter three

Part three

Rodney watched in horror as his best friend and the strongest person he'd ever known crumbled in shock against the back wall of the gate room. He glared menacingly at this new comer, this 'Ginny' and what sort of name is that anyway?

Once Beckett and Elizabeth had given up trying to calm John down, sedated him and got him onto a gurney, Rodney stepped closer to 'Ginny' his arms folded across his broad chest as he scowled at her. "Who the hell are you? I want answers and I want them now!"

Elizabeth was by his side a comforting hand on his arm as signal to him asking him nicely to calm down. "Why don't you come to my office Miss Weasley and we can talk in private?" she suggested.

"Will he be alright? I didn't think he'd be so upset, I would have tried to give some warning…" Ginny trailed off, her eyes searching for comfort her voice wavering as she spoke. She hated seeing Harry so upset and this time she had been the cause.

"Don't worry about John, Dr Beckett will take good care of him." Elizabeth said as she guided the other woman up the stairs and to her office. Elizabeth took her seat behind her desk and offered Ginny the chair opposite, which she took with a tight smile. Elizabeth was not at all surprised to see the rest of the Colonel's team filter into the room Rodney and Teyla sitting on the sofa and Ronon standing by the door menacingly.

"So would you mind telling us what the hell is going on?" said Rodney rudely.

"Rodney!" exclaimed Elizabeth she did not need him insulting the one person who might have answers to explain her military commanders apparent mental break down.

"It's alright Dr Weir." Ginny took a deep breath, composing herself before she told her story to group. "You may find what I tell you strange but I assure you it is all true. I am from England as is your friend John Sheppard. We were at school together many years ago. I have not seen him since just after his eighteenth birthday; he disappeared not long after that. No one knew where he went, but circumstances as they are, we had to find him. I must admit I did not expect him to be in another galaxy." She smiled to herself, she didn't know what to expect from this reunion but… another galaxy? Wow even as a muggle Harry Potter could not be ordinary or like everyone else. She did have the sneaking suspicion that he had tried to be like every other muggle though. He was always trying to fit in and never quite succeeding; that was Harry.

"You called him 'Harry Potter'. we have no record of John Sheppard ever changing his name." Elizabeth was getting a bit confused now. John's file said that he was an American not a British citizen and had certainly never gone by another name yet Sheppard's reaction did seam to contradict his file.

Another deep breath from Ginny and she carried on with her tale. "There's no easy way to tell this so I'm just going to come out with it. When Harry… John was born there was,"

For a moment she paused thinking how to explain Voldemort and magic to the muggles.

"There was an evil … man. He gathered some followers and he reined terror on all Europe, especially Britain. He killed Harry's parents but when he turned to kill Harry, er… John, something happened and it was he who was killed instead of the one year old child."

Elizabeth nodded she was beginning to understand John's extreme reaction to having old and clearly painful memories dredged up.

"I first met John at boarding school in Scotland. He was friends with my brothers" a small smile adorned her pretty face at the memories. "The evil man, Voldemort, was not dead however and he tried to kill Harry…er John, a number of times when we were at school. We lost a lot of friends. John lost his Godfather and Dumbledore the school Headmaster was also murdered in Harry's sixth year at school."

She paused again, knowing that she had not yet mentioned anything about magic, but she decided to get the bare facts out first before the muggles got spooked by the 'M' word. She had not had a lot of dealing with muggles over the years but her father had and he had always told her that they could be quite silly in they're reaction to magic, mind you her father had always had a bit of a soft spot for them too.

"There was a prophecy told before John was born. I've never heard it but I do know that it say that Harry Potter is the only person who can defeat Voldemort. Twenty years ago he did or we thought he did. There was all out war… so many people died. So many people Harry… er John was forced to kill. After it was all over, after the funerals, Harry left and became this 'John Sheppard' you all know."

Rodney spoke, appalled at the events in his friend past that is if this woman was telling the truth. "A prophecy? O-Kay. So now this Voldemort is back. How is that possible if John killed him twenty years ago?"

Ginny thought for a moment before answering. Honestly she did not know how Voldemort had returned this time. She had hoped that Harry would be able to answer some of her question too. "I don't know how. He took steps long ago to ensure his survival after death but I had thought Harry had destroyed the Horcruxes."

Elizabeth decided to leave this topic of conversation for now it was becoming too confusing. People dying but not really being dead… it remaindered her of the Ancients and how they ascended. As it was also John's personal life and should be respected she changed the flow of the conversation. "Can I ask how did you get here?"

Ginny looked slightly worried at this question, it meant exposing magic, but it would come out eventually so she smiled and said, "I used a portkey, Hermione and Ron had to help me of course the amount of power needed to get all the way here… I could never have done it on my own."

Rodney's curiosity about new technology over ruled his concerns for his friend and his current dislike of the woman whose presence had caused his concern for his friend, "A portkey? What technology is that? I've never heard of it before."

Sheepishly Ginny replied, "Er no, well you wouldn't have heard of it before. I used the empty wine bottle. It's… well its magic." Before Rodney could protest she raised her hand to silence him and drew out her wand from her robe. "It's a wand. I am a witch and your friend John is a wizard."

At Rodney and Elizabeth's incredulous looks she proceeded to turn the empty coffee mug on Elizabeth's desk into a cream bun.

"But, but… that's not possible!" cried Rodney as Elizabeth picked up the cake eyeing it suspiciously. Teyla and Ronon who until now had been silent both gasped as the mug became a delicious looking treat.

"I know it's hard for you to accept er…" She realised that she did not know the man's name. She indicated with her hands that he should fill her in. Teyla regained her composure first.

"This is Dr Rodney McKay, this is Ronin Dex and I am Teyla Emmagan. It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Weasley." She bowed her head in respect.

"Thank you Teyla, please call me Ginny." She turned to Dr McKay who was now licking cream of his finger after taking the cake from Elizabeth to 'examine' it properly. "Dr McKay you are in another galaxy, is it so hard to believe that there are some things back on earth that you can not explain?"

"Humph" was the muffled reply as he bit into the cream bun, icing sugar dusting his chin.


	4. Chapter four

Part four

He woke to the sound of McKay talking loudly at someone. He smiled to himself he loved it when he friend berated the medical staff… the medical staff? He shot up from the bed, heart pounding in his ears eyes searching the room until they rested on hers. "Oh God, it wasn't a dream."

"How do you feel lad?" Dr Beckett was next to him looking concerned his hand around John's wrist checking his pulse.

"I'm fine now, thanks." He really did not want to talk about his little 'freak out'. He snatched his hand away from Beckett earning him a stern look from the Scottish Doctor.

Elizabeth stepped closer to him and said, "I think there are some things we need to talk about, John."

He nodded, took a deep breath and prepared himself to bite the bullet. He gave Elizabeth a reassuring grin and acknowledged the rest of his team with a smile before turning his attention to Ginny. "How've you been, Ginny, long time no see."

She stood next to Elizabeth and he pulled the blanket back, relieved to find himself still in his uniform. "I've been better, Harry."

He swung his long legs off the bed and sat facing the two women, his team still congregated at the end of his bed. He noticed Ronon had his hand on his gun ready to draw if needed. He couldn't help but be filled with warm fuzzies at the Conan-type-mans over protectiveness.

His gaze dropped to Ginny as he spoke, "I told you before my name is John. Why are you here?"

"I came because we need you John. Voldemort has returned once more and we can not fight him alone." She implored looking pained as she spoke it was almost as if she knew the pain those words were causing him.

"I can't Ginny not anymore. I can't live through that again. Last time I faced him I nearly died too. Even if I wanted too go back with you I've not used magic for twenty years I doubt I could even remember half the spells."

Rodney who was still having trouble believing this whole 'magic' thing felt his jaw drop to the floor at the words 'magic' and 'spells' spoken from a man he had thought he'd known pretty well.

"It's in you blood Ha…John. You are destined to face him and you know he will hunt you down. He spent years trying to kill you before what makes you think you can avoid him now?" Ginny had spoken the truth and he knew it. Voldemort would hunt him.

"I'm in another galaxy he can't get me here!" Ginny looked angry now, he'd forgotten she had a fiery temper.

"Don't you understand! Voldemort is back! People are dying! Good people are being killed because he's looking for you! I found you for God sake, it's only a matter of time before he finds you too!" her eyes flashed with anger and grief and John wondered who else had died because of him. He was almost afraid to ask, almost.

"Who?" Ginny looked at the floor she was still shaking with anger. "Ginny look at me, who has he killed?"

"Bill and Fleur just two weeks ago... Dean and his wife Sarah a week before that, fortunately their children were at Hogwarts otherwise he'd have gotten them too." her eyes glistened with unshed tears and John felt his own pain and anger rising.

His heart ached for the death of his old school friend Dean was a muggle-born like Hermione, he had always made John laugh with his crappy Englishman/Scotsman/Irishman jokes, they were never that funny but they got on Seamus's nerves. He wiped a hand across his face as a lone tear fell from his hazel eyes. Bill and Fleur had always been so nice to him; he'd even gone to their wedding. He'd had such a great time that day chatting with the Weasleys and drinking fire whiskey (Ron's mother had gone ballistic when she'd found out the twin had given him and Ron the strong drink, cursing her sons for hours afterwards). He looking into Ginny's eyes and saw his own pain reflected there, "Anyone else I should know about?"

She hesitated. The first people Voldemort had killed were muggles, she knew Harry had never liked them much but they were his only family. Because of this they were the first on Voldemort's list of people to torture for information as to Harry Potters whereabouts. But they had not seen him since before he defeated Voldemort the first time and had no way of knowing where he was; so now they were dead.

"The Dursleys, Harry… sorry John, he got to them first. " John looked stricken and he visibly paled.

"When… What did he do to them?" he asked knowing that Voldemort would have wanted information and would be more than willing to torture to get it.

"Two months ago, that's when it began. Oh John, it wasn't just your aunt and uncle, your cousin Dudley and his family were killed too." John had to close his mouth to keep the bile down his chest tightened and breathing was starting to become an issue.

His entire family wiped out by one man. He could only imagine the horror the Dursleys would have felt, they weren't wizards and they did not understand magic. He could well imagine his uncle Vernon trying to reason with Voldemort to spare his family lives. His family, oh god Dudley would have a family by now, maybe even a wife and a few kids. He managed to choke the words out, "Dudley had a family?"

Ginny too looked like this was causing her pain and grief telling him this awful news but she pressed on, "Yeah a wife, I don't know her name and two children, a boy and a girl."

He nodded his head in acknowledgement of the new information. He concentrated his efforts on controlling his breathing whilst his mind was off in the past. No one spoke for some time, he heard Rodney shift uncomfortably at the end of the bed. He needed to regain control of the situation. He could not wallow in self pity. He was an air force Colonel and a wizard. He could do this. Voldemort would come after him and he refused to let other innocent people die because of him.

"Elizabeth I need you to confine all none essential personal to their quarters. Ginny is right he will come after me and he will kill anyone who gets in his way." He neglected to tell her that Voldemort would probably kill them anyway out of spite she really did not need the extra burden.

"Consider it done, John" she turned away from him and spoke to the control tower on her radio.

"You're going to need this." Ginny reached into her pocket and after a few minutes and lots of strange noises from said pocket she pulled out a wand. She handed it to John who after a few moments hesitation took it from her.

A glow emanated from it and John's hair was swept back as if caught by the wind a smile playing on his lips. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven and a half inches…thanks Ginny." he said wistfully. Warmth he had not felt for years swept over him from his wand hand and resonated throughout the rest of his body.

"This is all well and good but how the hell did you get from teenage wizard to air force pilot?" Rodney was not a patient person and had had more than enough of this emotional stuff. He could just about stretch to believe the magic thing, especially after the numerous displays (and therefore edible goodies) Ginny had show him. But he would never get all this emotion stuff, and he was having a hard time imaging his friend as a wizard even with a wand in his hand.

"Alright Rodney keep you're hair on." He sighed loudly. "After it was all over, I was at a lose end. You see I'd spent my whole life fighting but then I had nothing to fight, I'd won. I only had the memories of those people I had failed to protect. I couldn't live like that. So I did what I had to. To save my sanity I ran away from my life, my friends and what was left of my family. I left England too but I knew that wherever I went wizards would recognise me so I cast one final spell before I send my wand back home. I changed my appearance, I hid my scar and altered my eye colour and went to and had laser surgery to correct my eye sight- I used to need glasses." He grinned when he remembered having his eyesight corrected if only the USAF had known but being a wizard these things were easy to hide.

As he spoke he raised his wand and touched his forehead with its tip. A lightning bolt scar appeared there it glowed brightly at first but soon faded so that it looked like any other old scar.

"Wow" Elizabeth had rejoined the conversation and took in the Colonels new appearance. His eyes were a bright green and a zigzag scar now adorned his forehead.


	5. Chapter five

Part five

John Sheppard was released from the infirmary a few hours after he'd first woken. He'd needed to be alone for a while so he'd gone to his room for a quick shower. He stood in front of the mirror after his shower his hair still damp and took a good look at his 'new' face. His eyes were brighter than he'd remembered his scar much less noticeable on his older brow.

He shaved remembering how Mitch had been the one to show him how to shave properly- like a muggle. That had been his first week of boot camp, and Mitch soon became a great friend to him. They'd met Dex a few weeks later when they had first learned to fly choppers the three of them had been friend from then onwards. Mitch and Dex had always reminded him of Seamus and Dean with their sense of humour and lack of respect for the rules, something he could relate to.

It had been hard for him back then. He spent hours learning all the things he would need to get by in the muggle world. He had gone to college like any other muggle teenager so that he could go into the air force and fly (Blackhawk's were hardly a substitute for his firebolt but he'd make do) and discovered that he was surprisingly good at maths.

He studied in the library at college every night, learning about science, English and history, all the thing he would have learnt if he'd gone to muggle-school like uncle Vernon had wanted.

He'd not needed to shave really until he'd gotten to twenty one and had joined the USAF so that he could still fly that's when his beard seamed to explode. He'd bought razors at the army store and then spent ten minutes nicking himself until Mitch had shown up.

"Did your dad never show you how to shave Shep!" He'd asked,

"No, my father wasn't really around much," had been his reply. He had decided not to tell anyone about his past and eventually people had stopped asking. Mitch and Dex had understood his need for privacy and they never pried. He smiled when he remembered drunken nights out with them, they always looked after him and if he talked about his losses and his grief after a few beers no one spoke of it after the hangover had kicked in.

Mitch had taken him under his wing after the shaving incident, sensing that the kid needed looking out for. It took time but eventually Mitch and Dex earned his trust and he earned theirs. That was until they were shot down.

He closed his eyes at the memory, blinking back the tears, more people he had failed to look after. He walked back into his room from the en suite. He threw his towel onto the bed and got dressed quickly. He had a meeting with Elizabeth and his team in twenty minutes, just enough time to grab a nice turkey sandwich and a coffee. The corridors of Atlantis seamed so different now that there were no scientists rushing around, they were all confined to their rooms for the time being. He grabbed his turkey sandwich and a mug of coffee in the mess, which was deserted apart from Rodney McKay sitting in a far corner shooting daggers at Sheppard, if looks could like thought John.

He strolled over and sat opposite his friend. "How are you Rodney?" he asked, expecting an explosion and was not disappointed.

"How am I? How am I? He asks! How do you think I am? I just found out that A) magic is real B) my so called friend is a wizard and the best part C) some evil 'Dark Lord' is dead set on killing said friend! How do you think I am?" McKay took a breath but he calmed visibly at having vented his fears and frustration. John understood the need to vent. He'd not done it yet but he fully intended to have his ass kicked by Teyla in the near future.

"I'm sorry I never told you Rodney, but honestly I thought it was all in the past… where I liked it." He absently rubbed the scar on his forehead with his hand because it was prickling with pain.

"I understand why you kept it secret Sheppard, but I can't help but think that I don't know you anymore." He looked at his plate and pushed some cold peas around, finding them remarkably interesting.

"Rodney, you never knew anything about my past before… I never lied. I just withheld information, it's not like I know anything about your childhood either." He reasoned taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Yes, I suppose so." McKay looked up from his peas and shot Sheppard a weary glance as if unsure what to make of his friend. "You know that scar is going to make you even more Kirk-like, women love a man who looks a bit dangerous."

"Hey! Watch who your calling Kirk, Spock." He shot back, enjoying the light banter between them.

They spent the rest of the meal in silence, a good silence though. Both lost in their thoughts as they ate their food and drank coffee. Rodney wondering if magic cakes had the same calorific value of normal cakes. He was also planning how he was going to make a detailed study on that very subject, perhaps involving Sheppard and Zelenka in his plans. They could make a night of it; John making cakes out of thin air whist Rodney tests them and Zelenka can provide the moral support (and the decent moonshine!). John was more concerned with trying remember the spell he had learnt and forgotten over the years, he had the distinct feeling he was going to need them soon.

They made their way to the control tower together, Rodney asking a litany of questions about the different spells John knew and theorising how they could be used in their fight against the wraith. They were both smiling happily enjoying each others company.

As they reached the briefing room entrance where Elizabeth, Teyla, Ronin and Ginny were waiting for them another bright silver light filled the gate room, just like when Ginny had arrived. John turned and saw a cloaked figure, he was tall and lean with long pale fingers. There was a wand clutched in his right hand and his red slits for eyes were trailed on John. Sheppard's mouth was open in shock and a fair bit of fear as his scar burst open with pain. John doubled over, one hand on his forehead the other reaching blindly for his wand, in the back pocket of his BDU's. He saw Ronon move forward to take on the new opponent standing by the stargate, but Sheppard called him back to the relative safety of the briefing room. He managed to control the pain in his head as he had done so long ago. He stood up tall and proud, his wand now drawn ready to fight.

Voldemort for his part waited patiently for John to make his way down the steps and into the gate room. John took in his nemesis face. He looked ill, paler than before and there was a rasping to the man's breath. If he did not know better he would say that the cloaked figure before him was dead. There was no doubt in John's mind that Voldemort was weaker than he had been before their last encounter much, much weaker.

"Hello Harry Potter, we meet again."


	6. Chapter six

Part six

John stood in front of Voldemort his shoulders back. If he was going to die at the hands of this wizard then he would die like his father had; fighting to the last to protect his family, just like John would now protect his friends, his team; his family.

He heard Ronon and Ginny at the top of the stairs make their decent into the Gate room to help him. Voldemort was too quick for them and with a wave of his wand both Ronon and Ginny were thrown back, violently hitting the beautiful stained glass window at the top of the stairs. He turned his head round to see them fly as Elizabeth, Rodney and Teyla ran to their aid.

"Get back all of you!" he shouted at his team mates, he need to focus on Voldemort not be worrying about their safety. Ronon and Ginny were now slumped unconscious on the floor with Elizabeth and Teyla checking them over whilst Rodney called for a medical team to the Gate room. He turned his attention back to Voldemort he was amazed that the older man had not used the distraction to gain the upper hand.

"You're not looking so well Voldemort. What's the matter? Does death not agreeing with your complexion?" He knew it was stupid to bait him but he just couldn't help masking his fears with inappropriate humour.

"Bravery… I see you're still playing the hero, Harry." The comment cut John deeply his Bravery and hero complex had cost him dearly over the years. It had begun with his Godfather. He still hadn't learned his lesson not even after twenty years. His first mistakes in the Pegasus galaxy were a direct result of his stupid hero complex. Even after nearly two years he still had nightmares about his old CO and the day he'd woken the wraith.

"Are you going to kill me any time soon or are we going to have little chat over tea and scones?"

Voldemort leered at him, bearing his teeth in an imitation smile. "'I have no intention of killing you just yet."

Huh? Did he hear that right? His arch nemesis for his entire life just decided that actually no, I think I'll hang up my stereo-type evilness and join a cardigan-wearing-tomato-growing-tree-hugging-cider-drinking-cult?

"Excuse me for being confused, but aren't you here to kill me?" his wand was still drawn and pointing at Voldemort but his left hand now grasped his sidearm, perhaps it would be him to catch Voldemort off guard.

"Eventually, yes I will kill you, but for now I need something from you, Harry." Voldemort's wand was still raised but he looked amused, he was enjoying watching John's confusion.

"My name is John." When in doubt deflect, that was his motto anyhow. "And I won't tell you anything."

Completely ignoring Harry Potters name change, Voldemort continued. "I do not desire information from you, although I presume that this is the city of the ancestors? I will admit to being curious about it. No what I need from you is your blood. You do remember the evening you stood on my filthy muggle fathers grave don't you?"

Oh My God. Of course he remembered that night! Cedric had been murdered and Voldemort had returned- the first time. He remembered how Wormtail his father's old school friend had cut into the crux of his right arm and using a goblet had collected his blood to be used in the resurrection of the most evil wizard in history.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken," he whispered.

"Yes… yes, your blood now flows in my veins. Unicorn blood has sustained me but I need your blood to be whole, to be the Dark Lord that wizards everywhere will once more fear." As he spoke he moved closer to John, but John was ready to fight, he would not give Voldemort what he needed even if he had to die to do it. He moved to the left dodging the older man looking for an escape.

"Not so fast Harry." A force field was erected around them and the gate, trapping them together. Voldemort laughed at John his shield keeping the military man contained. John felt not unlike one of Carson's retro-virus mice.

He could see his team through the shield, looking deeply concerned. Ronon and Ginny were awake now; apparently they'd just been a bit stunned. Dr Beckett and his team were there too with gurneys and equipment ready for anything. He had no choice; he would have to fight Voldermort- again. He looked into those scary red eyes and was not surprised to see nothing but malice look back.

"Avada Kavara" he shouted, but Voldermort was ready and deflected John's curse easily. They threw spells back and forth for a few minutes, occasionally their spells would connect and John would hear an echo of Fawkes song in his head. John had forgotten how much using magic could tire you out, having not cast a spell and certainly not one as powerful as he was trying to cast now for years. He was tiring easily. Voldemort for his part was true to his word and was indeed not trying to kill John… at the moment anyway. He was trying to subdue his opponent and with John becoming tired and sluggish he saw his opportunity and took it.

"Expelliarmus!" he cried, John's wand shot out of his hand and flew into Voldemort's waiting grasp. John's gun which he had dropped because of the spell was soon back in it owners hand firing shots off at Voldemort who dodged them easily in a move that reminded John of a Keanu Reeves film he'd watched a few years before.

Voldemort laughed at John again his shrill voice filling the 'Gate room. John knew he was done for with no wand, no gun, no escape… no hope. Voldemort pointed his wand at John and rope shot out of its tip and coiled around Sheppard's right wrist. The rope bite deep and he tried with his left had to untangle himself. The Rope pulled him violent under the arch of the stargate and tied him to it. More Rope wrapped around his other wrist and he was pulled spread-eagle, tied to the stargate. Sheppard struggled in vain against his bindings, an air of panic about him.

Voldemort walked slowly towards him, "You always were terrible at duelling, Harry. But I always found you so amusing especially when you're backed into a corner. Rather like a rabid dog." He laughed again this time in John's face.

"My name is John!" he shouted as he pulled his legs up and kicked Voldemort right in his solar plexus. The older and physically weaker wizard flew back, landing arse-over-tit six feet from the stargate.

"You will pay for that." There was no humour in his voice any more not now he was so close to his prise. "Petrificus Totalus!"

John's body went rigid when the spell hit him just as it had the night Dumbledore has been murdered. He couldn't even raise an eyebrow. All he could do was watch in mute horror as Voldemort walked slowly and purposefully towards him, pulling a sharp knife from his cloak. He recognised the blade instantly; it was the same one that Wormtail had used on his arm before.

If he could have spoken, he would have screamed bloody murder. He hated feeing so helpless. But that's exactly what he was, no one was going to help him, they were all being held back. Even if they could get through Voldemort's Force field, they would only be killed for interfering in the Dark Lord's master plan.

"Ironic when you think about it really. The Dark Lord dependant on you for survival, the price I pay for you foolish muggle mother's protection." As he talked he cut John's long sleeve t-shirt open at the neck and ripped down exposing John's left arm and half his chest.

"Soon I will not need you and I look forward to that day when I can kill you, once I have taken from you what I need." John's scar was still extremely painful but now a new pain was his to behold. He watched, unmoving, as Voldemort sliced into the tender skin on his forearm cutting a deep horizontally gash poring with blood. Voldemort carefully replaced the knife in his cloak and placed his wand tip on John's chest just over his heart. Using his left hand he held John's bleeding arm in place as he drank, directly from John's veins.

His heart was hammering in his ears as his blood was taken from his body. A large pool collected on the floor as Voldemort continued to drink, like some ghoulish vampire. John felt light headed and he realised he would soon pass-out from the blood loss. After what seamed like an eternity to John, Voldemort stopped and faced John. His face was covered in John's blood and he licked his lips.

Voldemort undid the body-bind spell with a wave of his wand. It was not needed anymore to subdue Sheppard blood loss had weaken him, sapping the fight from his veins. John would not be moving any where fast, any time soon. John looked up at Voldemort and saw that some colour had returned to his nemesis' pale features. He looked healthier and John thought that the power emanating from his enemy was almost tangible.

"Are you done?" he whispered, hoarsely. It was taking all his strength to stay awake but he didn't want to appear weak in front of the enemy.

"Almost." Was the succinct answer. Voldemort's wand was still on John's chest and coldness filled his body from its tip. He cried out in pain as all the emotions and feeling he tried to hide were brought to the surface by Voldemort's wand. All his fears, grief and anger were consuming him; tears stung his eyes as another wave of pain coursed through him.

As suddenly as it began it stopped, he opened his eyes and saw a golden thread of light being pulled from his heart by Voldemort's wand. The other man caught the thread in his left hand which glowed for a moment before his body absorbed the thread of emotions completely.

"Until next time Harry." He threw John's wand at him and disappeared in a brilliant display of silver light. John managed to stay Conscious long enough to see the shield lower and Dr Beckett's medical team spring into action, by the time they reached his side however, he had fallen into the dark.


	7. Chapter seven

Part seven

Elizabeth watched her body shaking with fear and anger as John fought bravely against the older but clearly more powerful wizard. Wizard? She thought. When had she so easily accepted the concept of magic? Perhaps it was when John used his wand to change his appearance back in the infirmary.

His eyes were no longer the placid yet expressive hazel she had come to know but a vibrant green, filled with pain. Rodney was by her side and they stood next to the force field his hand was on her shoulder offering comfort.

"What can we do?" she heard Ronon growl behind her and she forced herself to turn to face him. Dr Beckett was next to him checking for injuries. She doubted he would find anything wrong with Ronon or Ginny they had both woken a few moments after Voldemort had used some sort of spell to fling them across the room. She recalled thinking at the time how strange it looked to see a man so physically intimidating fly through the air like a rag doll.

"There is nothing we can do." Ginny sounded broken, a lone tear weaving its way down her pale cheek. Ginny walked down the steps and into the gate room. She Stood beside Rodney and placed her had on the force field Voldemort had erected around himself, Harry and the large ring they called a Stargate.

The Shield glowed red and stung her hand which she then pulled away and rubbed with her other hand absentmindedly. Ronon came up behind her with Teyla and Dr Beckett the beautiful Athosian woman handed her back her wand. She said nothing but turned her attention back to the horrors playing out inside the shield.

Rodney gasped as John lost his wand and Teyla felt Ronon tense up next to her, he was ready and eager to fight to save Sheppard. Colonel Sheppard had earned the trust and respect of both Teyla and Ronon quickly and both would do anything to save their team leader. They could not hear any sound from inside the force field for which Elizabeth and Teyla were glad. It was enough to see the pain on Sheppard's face; they did not need to hear him cry out to know he was hurting. There were more gasps of fear from the group and small cries of 'no' as Sheppard was strung up underneath the stargate.

Rodney allowed a small smile as he saw his friend raise up his long legs and kick the son of a bitch right in the chest. Trust Sheppard to fight with all he had no matter what the odds of success. The smile turned quickly to a worried frown as John's body went rigid after a spell from Voldemort. Rodney's eyes widened in sheer disbelief when Voldemort proceeded to cut John's wrist wide open and from the looks of it drink his blood.

"You didn't say this guy was a vampire!" he turned on Ginny, the rest of the group to shocked at what they were seeing to stop him. He grabbed her shoulders wanting answers, damn it, he need something anything that could help his friend.

She did not fight him but looked him in the eyes, her own swimming with tears and she said, "He's not a vampire; I have no idea what he's doing to Harry… I … only Harry and Voldemort would know."

Rodney was not a heartless man, he could she the witch was not lying to him. "Sorry" he muttered, removing his hand from her shoulders only to wipe them across his face in defeat. They're view of Sheppard was somewhat obstructed by Voldemort's form but they all saw the gold thread being removed from John's chest to be absorbed into Voldemort's hand. It was then Voldemort stepped away from John, throwing John's wand into the pool of blood and disappeared. John looked up at them momentarily his eyes unfocused, before he succumbed to oblivion.

The shield dissolved as John's body went completely limp and the medical team along with SGA-1, Elizabeth and Ginny wasted no time running to John's aid. Ronon pulled out his sword from behind his back and cut the ropes suspending Sheppard's form. Rodney and Carson were there to catch John and they both helped lift him onto one of the gurneys the medical team had wheeled up to the stargate.

Carson was quickly barking order at his staff as they ran through the corridors of Atlantis to the infirmary. One nurse was pumping oxygen into Sheppard's lungs with a mask over his mouth and nose. Another applying a pressure bandage to his mangled left arm. Carson was checking John's vitals and calling for units of blood to be ready over the radio and as soon as they burst through the door of the infirmary a flurry of activity commenced.

Sheppard's team, Elizabeth and Ginny stood by the door not wanting to interfere with Dr Beckett but needed to be close to John all the same. Rodney was muttering nothingness under his breath and Ginny and Elizabeth were holding each other in a hug as they both cried silently for the man they both cared about and feared loosing. Teyla stood next to Ronon both looking like they would dearly like to hit something or someone.

Carson had just got an IV into Sheppard's vein when the heart monitor went flat and an alarm sounded. A nurse came and shooed the group at the door away just as Carson was applying the paddles to John's chest. "Come on John lad, not today!"

They refused to move an inch from the doorway until Carson finally, after four attempts got John's heart back into a steady rhythm. Everyone in the room gave an audible small sigh of relief and the nurse managed to shoo them all into the waiting area, promising to let them know as soon as there was some news about the Colonel's condition.


	8. Chapter eight

Part eight

His felt all warm and fuzzy as he came back to consciousness. There was a warm familiar weight over him, a large fluffy quilt and clean cotton sheets beneath him. He could hear and smell a real coal fire burning somewhere close by and the faint scent of pine trees in the warm air. Before he had even opened his eyes he knew exactly where he was; he was home.

A rustling of paper and a strong smell of sweet citrus came from somewhere to his right so he gave up pretending to be asleep and opened his eyes. He awoke in his old four poster bed at Hogwarts with the curtains around the bed open, to revel the old dorm he had shared with his three friends. He allowed himself the indulgence of reminiscing for a moment about the great times they had shared playing exploding snap and testing Fred and George's latest tricks.

He guessed it was late afternoon judging from the golden lights flooding into the room from the window. He propped himself up on his elbows and turned to the figure on his right. An old man with long white hair and matching beard was sat beside the window looking intently at a bag of sweet, as if decided which one to have was the most important decision to be made all day. He wore fine purple robes. A tall matching hat was set aside on a stool by John's bed.

John stared at the man, drinking in his presence his mouth slightly open in shock. The old man finally picked a sweet and popping it into his mouth with a look of pure undiluted pleasure. He turned to John. "Good afternoon Harry. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?"

John closed his mouth and sat up straighter in the bed leaning against the headboard for support. "Or should I call you John now?" Dumbledore continued, oblivious to John's current state of shock at seeing him alive and apparently well enough to be eating sherbet lemons.

His mouth felt like cotton wool as he spoke. Suddenly feeling like a teenage school boy again, "er… no…er Harry's fine, sir." He couldn't quite imagine Dumbledore calling him anything other than Harry.

Dumbledore nodded, "would you like a sherbet lemon? I find them rather refreshing." As he spoke Dumbledore moved closer to John and sat on the edge of the bed his hand outstretched offering John a sweet from the bag.

"Er… thank you sir." He took a sweet not taking his eyes of his old professor, mentor and friend.

He saw that familiar twinkle behind Dumbledore eyes and he knew it to be a look of love and concern. "I expect you have a lot of questions to ask, yes?"

"Well yes, sir… how did I get here, to Hogwarts I mean? The last thing I remember I was fighting…" Dumbledore cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"You're not really here Harry. The mind is an amazing thing full of wonders and untold depths. You are still on Atlantis, albeit a little worse for wear." It was John's turn to nod. It was nice to be home again, but it did feel a little off now he thought about. It was more like how he remembered Hogwarts in his dream than it really was; Hogwarts was much more noisy in real life.

"How are you here, sir? If you don't mind my asking… because the last time I saw you, you were well…dead." He instinctively knew that this was the real Dumbledore; he could feel in his very being. There was a power and a gentleness that was unique and Dumbledore's own. John would recognise it anywhere.

Dumbledore chuckled a little at John's words. "After all you have witnessed in you life Harry, the Arch, Voldemort and the Ancients, did you really think a spell could kill me for good?"

John thought for a moment, remembering how Fawkes had flown in and out of the flames at Dumbledore's funeral. He remembered Dumbledore telling him how phoenixes rise from the ashes after they burn out. He also recalled a similar conversation in Madame Pomfrey's infirmary about how 'to the well-organised mind, death is but the next the next great adventure'. "No, no I suppose not." He answered.

Dumbledore gestured to John's hand where an uneaten sherbet lemon still resided. "You know you're supposed to eat them, there not poisoned I assure you."

John smiled and popped the sweet into his mouth enjoying the zing of the lemon and the dusty sweetness of the sherbet. After a few moments John decided he might at well ask Dumbledore a few questions about Voldemort. He always had known a lot about the other wizard. His own answer man back on Atlantis could not help him with magic and dark wizards which was a shame because he loved it when Rodney was right, "How did he come back again sir?"

"Ah straight to the point, of course, I see the military have made you even more forthcoming in your quest for answers than ever before." He smiled and winked at John.

Dumbledore continued after John raised an eyebrow in return. "As I am sure you have guessed by now, not all the Horcruxes have been destroyed a small part of Voldemort's sprit has been allowed to endure all these years."

John sighed and whispered, "R.A.B… I never did find out who R.A.B was. I had no choice but to trust that they had destroyed the real locket." John felt angry now at his own stupidity; he should never have trusted R.A.B to destroy the locket. He should have made it his life's work to search for it.

"Not many people would have known who R.A.B was; it was an alias you see. He's long since dead now but I can give you his last know whereabouts. The locket should be there. Voldemort has no knowledge of the fake horcrux, yes?"

John had never told anyone except Ron and Hermione about the note in the fake locket, it was a good bet that Voldemort did not know about R.A.B or the fake. "yes. I never told anyone and if he looked for it where he left it, he would only find an empty bowl on a pedestal. He should have no clues as to which Horcrux remains intact."

"I'm sure he knows about the diary and Nagini but your right he cannot know which other remains." Dumbledore looked pleased at this information and smiled down at John placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. Dumbledore noticed a ghost of emotion in John's eyes and took the opportunity to offer comfort and solace to his young friend.

"Let it go Harry. It's not your fault he has returned, you weren't to know. And you can stop blaming yourself for your friend's deaths, trust me they are fine," another wink from those twinkling blue eyes.

John could feel himself crack under the soft touch and warmth of the comfort Dumbledore was offering. His shoulder slumped; he allowed his grief an outlet just this once.

Dumbledore pulled him into a fatherly embrace and he hugged his old teacher back. Tears flowed freely from both men's eyes as they offered solace and comfort to each other. Dumbledore cried for the pain suffered by the man in his arms, knowing that the road ahead may be just as hard as the one just travelled.

John cried because he needed to. He never let people in, not anymore, not like he used to. He only got hurt when he did allow himself to take comfort in another's presence. He cried for all those he had lost and been unable to morn for. Dumbledore held him tight through his sobs, until he was ready to talk and to listen once more.


	9. chapter nine

Oh my god! Don't ever try and edit stuff on here! I deleted chapter one, than had to upload them all again to get them back in order! FFS! Still on the plus side the grammar is better now and there are quite a few more sentences in the previous chapters now… I couldn't help myself I had fun editing!

I am so sorry it has taken me so long to update this, my computer crashed and I lost over half my files! (Even all the sexy pics I've collected over the years for private drooling!)

Should be back with regular update now so please don't hold it against me, lol. I want to say a really big thank you to everyone who has reviewed and said such nice things- your all wonderful people (big hugs to you all!). And because you're all so nice I have more whumping on the way… but we got a few parts to go yet. This is another slow one but Dumbledore will be back soon… I promise. Lol.

Part nine

Carson Beckett was sat at his desk in his broom cupboard excuse for an office. A mug of cold coffee sat to his right and a large stack of files on his left. He sighed as he analysed the data on his laptop screen in front of him. His eyes were glazed over with tiredness; he'd been awake for over thirty hours and counting. H rubbed his hands over his face the stress of the last few days clearly evident on his worn-out features. Sarah one of his nurses entered his office and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Dr, Colonel Sheppard's team is here to speak with you again."

He nodded in acknowledgment as he rose from his chair. He stumbled a little and Sarah caught his arm to steady him. "When was the last time you slept Carson?" her beautiful pale blue eyes giving him a once over and she frowned at what she saw. She had heard the other nurses talking about Dr Beckett's reluctance to leave the Colonel's side but she had not realised the toll it was taking on her boss.

"Dona worry about me lass, I'll sleep sound once Sheppard's up and about." He allowed her to help steady him, her hand holding his elbow tightly until he got his bearings. He reached for his coffee only to grimace when he discovered it to be stone cold. "Sarah dear, would ya mind fetching me a fresh one?" he held the half full mug out for her a boyish look on his face.

"Alright Dr Beckett, but it'll be decaf, you need to get some sleep." She took the mug and strode away, leaving Carson to wonder about his nursing staff giving him the proper respect. Shaking his head he walked out of his cupboard and toward the waiting area where he knew Sheppard's team would be waiting.

Rodney was the first to spot the exhausted medical doctor coming towards them and he promptly stood indicated to the others the doctors imminent arrival. Carson waved them back into seating positions taking a seat by the door himself. "What's going on Carson, you said it yourself he should be awake by now!" Rodney accused the poor doctor whilst pacing around the small area, his nerves on edge with worry for his friend.

"Aye I know what I bloody well said Rodney!" Rodney was taken aback by Carson's shout out. Of them all Carson had the most patience with McKay's attitude and it shocked Rodney to see the medical doctor looking so upset.

Teyla was there to calm the pair, diplomatically smoothing over the rough patches. "Doctors please we are all concerned by Colonel Sheppard's condition. There is no need to argue amongst ourselves we must be strong for him."

Rodney humphed indignantly but sat back down in silence wringing his hand together in worry. "Aye lass your right of course, but I still don't know why he's not back in the land of the living yet."

Ronon who was usually silent at such times spoke with confidence, "Sheppard will awaken when he is ready and not before." The warrior stood and walked purposefully out of the door heading towards the gym intent on beating some poor unsuspecting marines into submission.

"Perhaps that glowing thing did something to him your tests wouldn't show? Oh god what if he's got brain damage! That's it… it must be, his heart stopped beating for too long and now he has brain damage," Rodney was out of his chair once more whittering about Sheppard's lack of awakeness.

"Calm down lad! We got his heart going again pretty quickly he's not brain damaged. It must be the glowing thing that that man took from him or maybe Ronon is correct and he'll just wake up when he's good and ready." Carson walked over and took Rodney's arms which had been flaying around the room in panic, held them tight and guided his overwrought friend back to his chair settling back into his own chair a moment later.

"But even Ginny doesn't know what that was! God… it could have done anything to him!" Sarah the extremely underpaid and hospitable nurse walking into the waiting area followed by Elizabeth and Ginny. She carried a tray with six steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of cookies for the people on the waiting chairs. Sarah set the tray down on the coffee table in the centre of the chairs and proceeded to fix everyone a hot mug of coffee just the way they liked it. She left once she was sure they were all okay and went back to checking on her favourite patient.

Elizabeth sat in Ronon's chair next to Ginny who was sipping her sweet and creamy coffee with relish. No one spoke for sometime as they all sipped their coffees or nibbled on chocolate chip cookies. There was no eye contact between the group they were all too afraid to see their own fears of loss and grief reflected right back at them in their companions eyes.

Rodney thought his coffee tasted stale his tongue was numb. He drank the scalding liquid and felt nothing as it burned it way into his stomach. This was why he didn't do friends. If you don't have them then you can't miss them. Or worry yourself stupid that they might die or get hurt or thousands of other things you have to worry about when you care about other people. He'd stopped caring about others long ago. He'd learnt at an early age that to let people in is to let them hurt you one way or another. Intentionally or not. But being on Sheppard's team had changed him. He cared deeply for their team leader; he was like a brother to Rodney. They were always getting into scraped together and always helping each other back out again. Rodney had never had a brother but if ever he had a friend that came close; it was Sheppard without a doubt.

Carson had his hands intertwined around his mug to keep his fingers warm. He was thinking about all the useless tests he had done on John since they had saved his life two days ago. He shuddered at the memory. That was another reason he had not slept. He knew if he did he would dream about the wizard in the dark cloak with crimson eyes drinking his friend's blood fresh from his open veins. Like some horrendous vampire from the stories his father had told him as a child.

Beckett had done every conceivable test on Sheppard and yet he found no reason for him to remain unconscious. The medical team had replaced his blood (all nine pints of it) and he had sewn up the hideous gash in the Colonel's left arm. Fortunately there had been no nerve damage, a minor miracle in Beckett's book. No, Sheppard would regain full use of his arm and hand, if only he would wake up to do it.

The coffee was getting cold and still they sat there, waiting. Putting our lives on hold for you again John thought Elizabeth. Not that she minded; she knew that without Sheppard they were up shit creek without a paddle. Hell without him they didn't even have a raft on shit creek. She smiled to herself, she'd have to remember to tell him that when he wakes up. Sarah on of Carson long-suffering nurses came bustling back into the waiting room,

"Doctor I believe Colonel Sheppard is regaining conciseness." She hurried back to her patient's bed, the whole gang in tow ready to await Sheppard's arrival back into the land of the living.


	10. Chapter ten

Wow- sorry I took so long to update, but this was really hard to write. I hope the explanation is okay and makes sense. I tried to imagine where JK was going in her books and used that to fuel the bunnies. I'm not even sure it makes sense to me! But what the hell – hope you like it anyways and I off to start work on part eleven.

Part ten

John Sheppard didn't remember falling asleep but his body ached as though it needed just a little bit more down time. His body was twisted in an awkward position across the four poster bed. He was bent over, his face lying somewhere near his knees but a little more to the left. The warm and cosy quilt was wrapped around his legs and he fisted the soft fabric in his right hand not too far from his cheek. He supposed the ache in his muscles was due to his sleeping position, not really good for the back.

He opened his eyes slowly, enjoying the now expected smells and sounds of Hogwarts. There were the distinct sounds of a quiditch match somewhere in the distance. The roar of the game being carried on the wind to the castle and up to John's room. The fire that had burned in the centre of the room had long since died out. The embers now nothing more than ash, leaving a lingering smell of burned coal. He scrubbed his hand across his face and sat up, his aching bones protesting the sudden movement in his limbs. Dumbledore was once again sitting comfortably by the window. His tall pointy hat was now perched precariously on his head. The warm sunlight making the old mans face glow with vitality betrayed only by his sad eyes. "How long was I out?" He asked his old headmaster.

"Oh I dare say not long enough Harry." John smirked at the older man. Typical Dumbledore, couldn't give a straight answer if his life depended on it. Dumbledore rose from his cosy looking floral arm chair and moved to fetch a tray of tea and scones which had been positioned on the chest at the foot of the four poster bed. "Would you care for a cheese scone?" he lifted the tray and placed it carefully on the bed. "Or perhaps a plain one with strawberry jam and real Cornish clotted cream?"

John watched as Dumbledore poured the tea from the china pot into two mismatched cups with saucers. "Plain with jam and cream please sir." He said, "And two sugars."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes sipping their hot sweet tea. Dumbledore handed John a small plate with two scone halves both covered with strawberry jam and a generous dollop of clotted cream. "Thanks."

The scone was perfect; just how he remembered it, Light and fluffy, not at all stodgy. The jam sweet with strawberry pips and the cream was sublime. John took a small bite the cream giving him an off white moustache. Licking the cream from his lips John realised that he was stalling. There was so much that they needed to discus but right now he just couldn't bring himself to talk. Thankfully Dumbledore seamed to understand Johns need to take his time. Whist there was not all the time in the world, Dumbledore knew they could afford to take it slowly, to ease the younger man into it.

There would be no time later for friends to talk. Dumbledore knew that Harry would once again be fighting for his life. So if the people waiting for John to wake up had to wait a little longer then so be it. And if he was honest Dumbledore was enjoying spending time with Harry once more. He had missed the company and was enjoying this little meeting of minds far more than he thought he should be. Being dead had its good points but it just wasn't the same as living, breathing… caring. The sat for almost an hour eating scones, drinking tea and reminiscing about their time at Hogwarts together. They chatted about the exploits of Harry and his friends, carefully avoiding the names of the dead.

Eventually however there came the time to discuss more important issues. The sun was just beginning to set in the distance, over the rolling mountains beyond the forbidden forest. The two men had finished off all the scones and drank all the tea during the afternoon and both were filled with a pleasant feeling of nostalgia after their long overdue conversation. Dumbledore rose from his position on the bed and using his wand lit the fire in the middle of the room. He turned, removed his hat and gently sat back down, his piercing blue eyes on Harry's face. "There is much we need to discuss, Harry."

"Yeah, I know that." Sheppard looked downcast he really did not want to have this conversation. He sighed mentally preparing himself for the next emotional round of question and answer. "Okay. So I know what needs to be done and how to do it." Deep breath. "Which leave just one thing unanswered; why did he take my blood? And what was that gold thread thingy?"

Dumbledore nodded. This was the question he did not want to answer and yet he had known all along that it was the reason he was here. The reason Harry was here with him. The fates had brought them together here one last time so that he could reason with Harry and help him overcome his fears. His fears which were crippling him even now- he just didn't know it.

"Voldemort took your blood because your blood is a part of him. Resurrection drained him of his strength and with out the unicorns he would not have survived. But your blood will not just sustain him; it will return him to his former self. Once he has taken his fill you will no longer be needed and he will try to kill you." Dumbledore met John's eyes and he saw understanding and resolve in their green depths. John did not trust himself to speak without betraying his emotional state. He had already shown weakness once to Dumbledore, he would not do it again. He nodded for Dumbledore to continue.

"The golden thread you speak of is a little more complicated to explain." He sighed deeply, this was the part he did not want explain. But there was no other way. Harry had to see the error of his ways and begin to believe in himself again if he was to have any hope of defeating Voldemort once and for all.

"Do you remember what I told you about love?" John nodded.

"And do you remember I told you that it was your greatest strength and the key to defeating Voldemort?" John nodded once more already not liking where this conversation was headed.

"Yes, I remember. I think that's how I defeated him before. Something… happened; there was this light and I remember thinking about my friends, about Neville and Luna. I was consumed with emotions. I don't know how that defeated Voldemort but I woke up at St Mungo's and everyone said that he was gone." He'd been at the hospital for over a week the healers had been completely unable to wake him. He could not explain what had happened, not to them or to his friends, he didn't really know himself. He'd awoken to find Hermione hovering around his bed, sleep deprivation evident on her pale face. Ron had been there too, providing much need tea and offering comfort to his girlfriend.

"You are quite correct. Your love for your friends defeated Voldemort the last time. Love is something he simply can not understand and such raw emotions harm him, for they are the opposite of everything he stands for. The power of love saved you from him; you're heart providing all the protection you needed." John was not really surprised by Dumbledore's explanation. It was just the sort of thing he expected from his old headmaster. Besides he had suspected something similar himself.

"So what was the gold thread? You still haven't told me."

"Ah, patience Harry, patience. You need to know the whole story not just the ending. We have established that love can damage Voldemort even destroy him. But what about other emotions? Such as fear, hatred or anger?"

Okay thought John, this just got a little too 'star wars' for my taste. "They lead to the dark side of the force."

"Funny. You may mock Harry but there is some truth in that statement regardless of its origin. Now where was I, ah yes," John had the good grace to look sheepish. He wasn't trying to be funny but he had to admit that this whole situation did feel a bit fairy tale-ish even to him and he had been brought up on it for God's sake.

"You and Voldemort are connected and not just by that scar. Your paths are intertwined throughout your life as are your souls." John looked shocked, his mouth snapped shut intertwined souls? That sure hadn't been in the brochure.

"What do you mean by that! My soul is nothing like his, hell he barely even has one!"

"I did not nor will I ever say such a thing! Your soul is nothing like his, but the fact does remain that your souls are connected. Because of this connection he has found a way to 'feed' off of yours. His own is mangled almost completely destroyed. But using yours he can become stronger."

John felt sick. Voldemort had taken a part of his soul? He couldn't breath. He felt dirty, cheap, used even. He struggled to control himself and after a time he managed to croak out the words "how? How can he take part of my soul, if love can kill him? I don't understand."

"I know this is difficult for you so I will try and be brief. Voldemort can not touch most of your soul, your heart. However the, shall we say 'darker' parts he can touch and he can use them to feed his own greed and hunger for power. You closed off part of you heart Harry and in doing so have unwittingly provided Voldemort with an extra power source. The thread he took from you was a thread of emotion from you heart and from you soul. Filled with your grief, pain, fears, anger and hatred for him."

A tear slid down John's cheek. He had felt the grief and the anger rise in him when Voldemort's wand had touched his bare chest. He couldn't quite believe the defence mechanism that he had used for so long was now providing fuel for his enemy. Yet Dumbledore had said it was so and he was inclined to believe his old friend, "So what now?"

Dumbledore took John's hand in his own and squeezed it gently. "Now you must return to your friends; they are waiting for you." With his other hand he touched John's cheek and wiped the tear away. "You will have to learn to open you heart once more before you can continue on your journey."

John nodded and sensing that it was time for him to leave, took the opportunity to thank his mentor. "Thank you, sir. I don't think I could have done this with out you. Will I see you again?"

As John began to fade from the room Dumbledore whispered, "Perhaps old friend. One day."


	11. Chapter eleven

AN: all mistakes are mine- pick me up on them if you find any.

Sorry its taken so long to update this- I've been so busy and I lost my muse for a while there too. The muse is back now so I'm trying to take full advantage in case she goes away again (pesky thing that she is)

I'm still a little unsure of where this story is going – it was originally a one shot, but you asked for more so I'm trying to deliver. To be honest I'm not sure whether to shelf this or not, tell me what you want cause I'm damned if I know.

Eleven

His head felt foggy, all cotton wool and candy floss. He tried to shake his head to clear his thoughts, but found the task almost impossible to accomplish. His body felt like some one had made him out of tin, and then cruelly left him in the garden throughout winter to rust. He needed to shake this fog, he had things to do, very important things to do. His eyes fluttered open, sticking slightly with dried sleep and then closed again.

"Humm."

"John? John lad can ya hear me?" Someone was holding his right wrist, rubbing his arm slightly to try and wake him. That accent, he knew that… Oliver…. Oliver Wood, wait, no that's wrong, Oliver died.

"John? If ya can hear me open your eyes for me." Beckett, that's it Carson Beckett. His mind was slowly clearing; he remembered Atlantis and Voldemort and,

"Dumbledore!" he sat up suddenly, startling the crowd of people gathered around his bed.

"Who? What's a Dumbledore?" Rodney looked a mixture of curious and concerned. His brows creased together, adding to the sentiment. "Oh god, he's brain damaged isn't he? I told you Carson, didn't I tell you?"

"I'm not brain damaged Rodney, get a grip will ya." The conversation with Dumbledore had reminded him of his English heritage and hearing Carson speak, he'd automatically responded with a slight British twang.

"Although, my arm kinda hurts." He looked down at his bandaged left arm, flexing his fingers to check for nerve damage. Good as new, he decided after a few moments flexing.

"Do you remember what happened John?" Elizabeth said, moving forward to place her hand on his leg, to reassure herself that he was indeed alive and well.

John looked around at the wide-eyed, tired faces of his friend. He remembered Dumbledore's words exactly as they had been spoken, and decided to try and tell his friends everything. Maybe they'd think him crazy, but they needed to know what had happened to him and he needed to tell them. He had to try and let people into his heart again. It was going to be hard, painful, but ultimately it had to be done. Until Dumbledore had spoken to him, he hadn't realised quite how lonely he really was. Years of being the outsider, never letting people get close for fear that they could hurt you, or worse he'd hurt them. But now he had to re-learn, not just for his sake, but also for all the people he'd ever cared about, or had ever cared about him. He was man enough to admit, at least to himself, that the idea didn't just scare him; it filled him with mortal fear. He took a deep, long, slow breath and prepared to tell them his strange tale.

"Er well, where to start really?"

"Why don't you try the beginning Harry?" said Ginny, " I think we'd all like to know just what the hell was going on with you and Voldemort before." There was a slightly annoyed tone to her voice, almost as if she believed that he'd kept secrets from her. But it was only after speaking with Dumbledore in his head… or whatever, that he'd fully understood everything himself.

"Right, of course. The start. Okay so, Ginny told you what she knows right?"

"Right, she told us this Voldemort guy has always had it in for you, and he killed your parents but couldn't kill you for some unknown reason. He then came back, killed loads more people until you killed him, except you didn't because he's back. That about sum it up?" Rodney looked quite pleased with himself. He'd managed to condense John Sheppard's life story into two sentences.

"Well, not far off, but there's a few details missing. Like why he couldn't kill me as a baby." John turned to face Ginny and asked her, "You did tell them about the prophecy, didn't you?"

"Yes, I told them everything I know about your story, John." She wasn't mad with him anymore, she was looking at him with sympathy again.

He took another deep breath, made himself more comfortable on the bed and prepared to tell his whole history. He covered the basics, how his mother dying to save him had protected him from Voldemort's killing curse. How his blood had been used to resurrect the Dark lord all those years ago, and how his love for his friends had destroyed Voldemort that night in the forest. "I only know this now because Dumbledore spoke to me whilst I slept here. I think he's ascended, and we had a good long chat about Voldemort's most recent attack."

"Really? Your old headmaster is ascended?" Elizabeth's eyes were alight with curiosity; she was fascinated with the Ancients and their ascension. Rodney on the other hand, looked like he'd just solved the problem of sustainable fuel on earth, he had a triumphant look about him.

"Of course it all makes sense now! It logical when you think about it- Voldemort used your blood last time he was resurrected- and can I say ew- it's logical then, that he would need more of your blood to remain resurrected this time. Did anyone else notice that he look more alive when he left than when he arrived here? Stronger?"

"You catch on quick Rodney, that pretty much what Dumbledore said too." John shifted around on the bed, absently picking at the tape holding his bandages together. Carson was quick to rest his hand on John, to stop him undoing the nurses' work. John knew what was coming next, they would ask about the gold thread, the hardest part to explain.

"John what about the golden thread he took from you? I am still unclear as to its part in this story?" Ah, dear mild mannered, patient Teyla, she would ask the more 'spiritual question'.

"Yeah that's sorta my fault actually." Everyone looked utterly confounded at his words, and Elizabeth looked like she was going to ask questions or try to tell him that this wasn't his fault, so he cut them off before they could try. "Let me explain; somehow mine and Voldemort's Souls are intertwined, that's why my feeling of love killed him before. After the losses of that battle and the hundreds more I've fought in the USAF, I closed my heart off. I stopped letting people in, to protect myself and to protect them. This has understandably created some negative emotions, which Voldemort can now feed upon. The thread you saw was him stealing, a small part of my soul, a part that contains negativity. Feeling like fear, loneliness, guilt- I'm… I'm sure you get the picture."

John looked down at his hands. He could not bear to look his friends in the eye. His stupidity, had led to Voldemort being given the opportunity to become even more powerful than ever before. His inability to allow people close to him, and his unwillingness to deal with his grief properly had all contributed to the darkness that was now present in his heart, and in his very soul.

He heard Ginny and Elizabeth gasp when he spoke of his stolen soul-pieces. He didn't need to look up to know that they were all communicating with each other silently. A warm, firm hand grasped his left shoulder and another touched his right leg.

"John? Look at me John." Elizabeth spoke calmly but he heard the faint quiver in her voice- she was afraid for him. It was her hand on his shoulder that was now squeezing a little tighter. He looked up, he allowed her to see the pain in his eyes, which glistened with unshed tears. "Can we get it back? What he took from you?"

"When I kill him again, yes. But it's made him stronger, and I'm so out of practice with magics. Also, he's going to want more of my blood, probably more of my soul. Dumbledore said that he would take what he needs and then kill me."

The hand on his leg belonged to Rodney, he held on to John tightly as if afraid to let go. "We won't let him hurt you again Sheppard. We might not have magic here but we do have Ancient technologies, we can put up one hell of a fight."

"I don't know if Ancient tech will affect him. He recognised it sure, but whether it can be used against him- I haven't a clue." John was reluctant to get his friends on Atlantis involved in this, but having them standing by him reminded him of the old day, with Ron and Hermione by his side. He wanted that again, that unquestioning loyalty and unspoken love for each other.

"Hey I'm a genius- if anyone can figure it out, I will." There was a grin to accompany the statement and Sheppard could feel himself grinning back.

"Okay so what's the plan?" Elizabeth was still clutching his shoulder protectively but she was not alone. The rest of his team, including Beckett and Ginny all wore looks of grim determination. In that moment he realised something. He wasn't really alone anymore; hadn't been for a while now. These co-workers had become friends and now they knew his biggest, darkest secrets and they were still standing by him. He nodded his head, the plan forming in his mind, and accepted their resolve to aid him.

"Okay so the plan is…"


	12. Chapter twelve

Twelve

To be honest he had no idea what the plan was going to be but once he'd been asked, his mind had quickly formulated the best it could. When in doubt, ask someone who might know. The only way for him to get the information he needed was to get back to the Milky Way and go visit some old friends.

"Okay, so the plan is… I have to go home." The words were spoken calmly but inside he was in turmoil. He'd not been back to England for twenty years but there was excitement within him too, he'd see his home, his old friends once more.

"Home? You mean you're going back to England?" Rodney's hand moved from John's leg to flail around as he asked his question.

"I need to speak to some old friends, besides it's harder to catch a moving target." He'd decided to move quickly and leave Atlantis as soon as Dr Beckett cleared him. His friends on Atlantis would be in danger if he stayed any longer, Voldemort would be back for him; no doubt about that.

"When do we leave?" Asked Teyla, already mentally packing the clothes and equipment she might need earth-side.

"You should leave as soon as John feels well enough, if Voldemort is after you, you can't stay in one place for too long." Elizabeth squeezed Sheppard's shoulder again as she spoke and indicated to Carson with a curt nod for him to agree with her.

"We? I don't know about any 'we' Elizabeth, this is my problem not an Atlantis problem, and I won't risk my team getting involved in this war." The wizarding world was no place for his team, Teyla and Ronon had never even been to earth and Rodney would ask loads of scientific question and if anything went down- which is usually did if Harry Potter was near by- then who knows who could get hurt. No, he wouldn't risk it, he'd go back home with Ginny and deal with Voldemort on his own terms.

"Sheppard you need us." Ronon answered for everyone, quickly and succinct. The big man then turned to Teyla and Rodney, "Come on, we need to get suited and booted." He then left the infirmary with Teyla on his heels and Rodney not too far behind.

"We're a team Sheppard, we are coming with you. Oh, and can you stop teaching Ronon earth-isms, 'suited and booted'? What has he been watching?" McKay gave John one last look, holding his gaze steadily until John nodded his agreement.

"Well I guess that's decided, now lets get you checked over and we'll see about this trip. How do you feel lad?" Carson checked John's vitals as he spoke being careful not to jar Sheppard's injured arm. Elizabeth watched the two men discussing John's health for a few moments before she slipped away to her office to contact the SGC.

John was released from the infirmary by Dr Beckett on one strict condition; that Carson joins his team on the return trip to England, apparently Carson wanted to check in with his mother in Scotland, and keep an eye on Sheppard's health. John reluctantly agreed that having the Doc along could be useful besides there was no keeping the Scot away from the chance to meet real wizards and witches! Carson had already grilled John on everything he knew about wizard medicines and remedies (which wasn't much, healing had never been Harry's strong point; defence against the dark arts was his subject).

He packed his backpack swiftly with A few clean t-shirts, some tight black jeans. He dressed in civvies- blue jeans, black t-shirt and his military boots. He carefully tucked his wand into his back pocket and put his gun in a side holster, concealed by his leather jacket. His left arm was tricky to get into the jacket, what with all the padding from the bandages, but after only a few manly winces he managed it. He crossed the room in three strides and pull out the top draw in his dresser. Under a few folded shirts and some socks he found what he was looking for.

The only other personal item besides the 'hail Mary' football match he had brought with him to Atlantis. The only item that had gone with him wherever he went, be it Afghanistan, Antarctica or Atlantis. The photo album Hagrid gave to him his very first year at Hogwarts. The albums cover was dirtier than back then, it had seen nearly thirty years of action. The pages worn and scuffed in the corners; the photos a little more faded. He sat down on his freshly made bed, crinkling the pristine sheets. He drew in a harsh breath to calm his nerves and open the album on to page one.

There they were- as they always were; his parents smiling and waving back at him on their wedding day. His godfather standing off to the side a wiry smile on his lips and Lupin in the background beaming at him from the photograph. Across the page there was his family, his mum holding him close in her arms and his dad looking proud and mushy with emotions, as he holds his baby son's small delicate hand in his.

Toward the back of the album Hagrid had left space for Harry to add his own images. John had added picture of his friends at school, Ron, Hermione, Dean and Seamus. There was a big family picture of all the Weasleys' taken at Bill and Fleur's wedding, with Hermione and Himself on the left next to Ron.

The Album was his only connection to the wizarding world that he had kept, and over the years he had added more photos to his collection. There was a picture of his graduating class when he finished Muggle College and pictures of his buddies in the Air Force. The muggle photos did not move as the magical ones did, but they were magical in their own right. Capturing people alive and happy… people who are now probably dead. Certainly Mitch and Dex were, but in his album they smiled at him as they stood beside their first copter, as alive and joyful as they ever were.

He took the framed photo from his bedside table and took the picture out of the frame. It belonged in his family album with the rest of his family photos. He carefully inserted the picture into the next available slot in the book (he suspected that Hagrid had charmed the album because he never seamed to run out of places for new photos). The people in the picture were mostly smiling or laughing, it had been taken at the Christmas party last year. There he stood just off centre a bottle of beer in his right hand, his other hiding in his jeans pocket, with his team surrounding him as they laughed at a joke told by Carson at Rodney's expense. Rodney was scowling at Carson and Sheppard for laughing, and Ronon and Teyla were having the joke explained to them by Elizabeth and Radek.

It was a happy family photo and it belonged in his family album. He quickly shut the book and stuffed it into his back pack, letting his eyes slowly take in his room one last time. In his heart he doubted that he would ever see Atlantis again and silently prayed for her to take care of his people here.

When he arrived in the 'gate room he found his team already there waiting patiently to follow him through the gate and into his nightmares. Ginny was talking quietly with Teyla whilst Ronon checked McKay's gun. Elizabeth approached him from behind with Carson, carrying his medical kit. "Are you ready John?" Elizabeth asked as his team noticing his presence stood to attention.

"Ready as I'll ever be. You sure you want to do this?" he addressed his team; he knew it was a long shot but he wanted to give them the chance to remain behind and stay safe on Atlantis.

"I think I speak for us all when I say, you're stuck with us Colonel" Teyla looked around the group sheepishly as if checking she had the phrase correct. When McKay nodded and Beckett stifled a snigger she looked at Ronon and shrugged a small 'these earthlings are strange' shrug.

"Okay then, dial it up!" Elizabeth signalled to the gate tech and as the wormhole whooshed into life she said, "Be safe all of you!"

Teyla, Ronon, Beckett and McKay were the first to step though. John took one last look around the gate room, locked eyes with Elizabeth, before taking Ginny's arm and walking her into the event horizon, with a quick, "Don't worry Ginny, I do this all the time, you won't feel a thing!".


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**AU: possible spoiler for SG1 season 10 episode, the Atlantis project.**

Thirteen

He heard Ginny gasp next to him and clutch his arm tighter when they emerged on the other side of the wormhole. The dank, grey walls of the SGC's 'Gateroom felt claustrophobic after the blue serenity of Atlantis. The guards pointing P90's at them, lowered them when Colonel Mitchell indicated with his hand the authenticity of the travellers. The rest of his team were already being reacquainted with SG1, having met most of SG1 previously on Atlantis a few weeks before. Ronon and Teal'c appeared to be sizing each other, in a 'who's the biggest alien competition'. John secretly thought that Ronon might win, but Teyla could be the dark horse coming out of the left field. When the Stargate shut down with a whoosh and the klaxons stopped wailing, he walked purposefully down the ramp, with Ginny close on his heals, her fingerprints still an angry red on his right arm.

"Nice to see you again Colonel Sheppard" General O'Neill, greeted him with a friendly smile and a warm, firm handshake.

"Good to be here sir" he replied, earning him a skeptical raised eyebrow and a an

"Not from what Dr Weir tells me". John released the General hand and stood at ease, nodding 'hello' quickly to SG1 who were now listening to him and O'Neill's conversation. He couldn't help but notice the way three sets of eyes ran over the bandages on his arm and linger on the lightening bolt scar visible on his forehead. He'd almost forgotten the way it felt to have people always looking at your head and never in your eyes. He felt a slight twinge of anger and defiance prickle the edges of his mind and a forgotten desire to flatten his hair down to cover the distinctive mark. He somehow managed to keep his voice and tone appropriate for the circumstances and answered to O'Neill's remark,

"True, but whilst I'm here might as well make the most of it. I've not had a decent beer in months!" His team, who had been watching the exchange, looked uncomfortable at the direction of the conversation, and John felt himself smile inwardly at their protectiveness over him.

Teyla quickly tried to change the subject to alleviate some of the tension the team felt, it was so intense it was coming of them in waves. Tension, apprehension and a good dose of fear, for what the trip earth-side might reveal. "Yes, and Colonel Sheppard has promised to show me something called 'a pave hawk' and a show called 'jeopardy'.

"Has he now? Well I'm sure he can do that once you've all been to the infirmary and Colonel, we need to have a short briefing of the situation before you're allowed to proceed to England, we have a plane waiting to take you there in two hours".

Sheppard acknowledged O'Neill with a courteous "Thank you sir", before the team trundled out of the Gateroom with SG1 accompanying them, McKay talking a mile a minute to Colonel Carter about all the wonderful things he had done on Atlantis.

The infirmary was even more claustrophobic than the gateroom had been. Sheppard felt like he was crawling out of his skin with the anticipation of the struggles ahead of him. He was nervous of going home, but even more nervous of what he might find there. It had been four days since Voldemort had graced Atlantis' gateroom with his presence, who knew what damage he had caused since then. He was also unsure and worried about seeing Ron and Hermione again after so many years apart; he'd left so suddenly and without so much as a word to them.

The only clues he had sent them, had been a letter address to the Weasley family, informing them that Grimmauld Place and Godric's Hollow now belonged to them, to do with as they pleased (as well as a very grumpy house elf, who Harry would have been equally happy to see its rotten head chopped off and mounted next to the rest of its miserable family or for Ron to give the retched thing clothes). As far as he was concerned, giveing the Weasley's his things was the least he could do for the family who had given him so much, and lost so much because of him. He'd also sent them his wand (Which Ginny had since given back to him), invisibility cloak, firebolt, the key to his vault at Gringrotts, and an extremely annoyed Hedwig. He had to admit that he did feel more than a little guilty for leaving without so much as a 'So long guys', a brief note and his possessions were hardly comfort after all they had lost.

The adrenaline was flowing through his veins giving him a slight case of the jitters but he had no time to use the extra energy on something productive- like hitting things. The pretty dark haired Doctor changing the bandage on his left arm was taking to him…

"You're very lucky that there was no nerve damage, a cut like that…" he tuned her out, he didn't want to listen to some stranger prattle on about his arm. He just wanted to get this over and done with, once and for all. Talk to his old friends, find the missing Horcrux and confront Voldemort; preferably in that order. Other nurses were taking blood samples and checking vitals of his team, with Carson looking none too pleased at someone else checking his most troublesome patient over. Sheppard suspected that any minute now the Scottish Doc would come running over and tell the brunet to 'leave him be, he's my ruddy patient!'

Rodney was still chatting to Carter even with a sexy blond nurse taking his blood pressure, while Teyla was talking with Dr Jackson about some anthropological thing or other. Teal'c and Ronon were arranging to watch a movie together, or at least that's what their lips said. Their body language however said that they were going to test out the competition, probably involving kicking the living day lights out of one another. Ginny sat on the next bed over, with Mitchell flirting outrageously.

John found a smile spread across his face, his team and SG1 getting along like a house on fire. His thoughts were interrupted by Generals O'Neill and Laundry entering the infirmary and walking straight to the bed Sheppard was sat on. He promptly stood to attention giving the brunet quite a start, which she concealed well and wandered off to do something with his blood sample. As if he could afford for her to be taking more of it!

"General" he saluted to both men, deciding to make the imminent briefing as painless as humanly possible.

"At ease Colonel." Sheppard relaxed his stance slightly, "if your finished here, we need to have that chat?"

It was phrased as a question, but Sheppard knew better than that. It was an order to follow O'Neill and Laundry to the briefing room upstairs.

"Yes I think so sir." He looked around and caught the pretty brunet's eye and when she nodded he indicated with a nod of his head that he was cleared to leave the sterile infirmary.


	14. Chapter fourteen

Sorry if it seems rushed, I'm trying to hurry up and get to the good bits!

Fourteen

John left the briefing room feeling somewhat deflated. Which considering he'd felt like a dodo flailing around trying to outrun extinction before the meeting, it really was saying something.

To say that the air force was unhappy about him being revealed as a wizard was like calling the holocaust 'a glitch in history', a 'slight moral hiccup' or 'a bit of a kerfuffle'! General Landry was livid, his face a not-to-pleasant beat red colour after Sheppard had brushed of his criticism with a mere 'you wouldn't understand sir."

O'Neill had been rather more kindly, and while he was clearly angry that Sheppard had kept such secrets from the Air Force, he at least understood Sheppard's reason for it.

The whole meeting was an excuse to find out if magics could help in the fight against the Ori and the Wraith. John had refused to expose the wizarding world any more than it already had been. Besides what good would it do muggles? They wouldn't be able to use wands. The best he would be able to offer would be potions, but even then it would mean witches and wizards getting involved. It simply was not his place to open that little can of worms. If the magical community wanted to get involved in the SGC then they could.

Surprisingly the representative from the FBI who was the supposed authority on such things agreed with him. The man dressed in a sharp suit had sat silently throughout the meeting and had only spoken to agree with Sheppard on this one point. John hadn't even noticed the man until that point. He supposed it made sense for there to be someone who knew about magic's existence to be informing the Air Force on the situation.

The FBI man had thin greying hair and an air of bewilderment about him. It wasn't until after the meeting that Sheppard realised that the man had spent the entire meeting staring at his forehead, John could only conclude that the man must have been a wizard himself. It was common practice in England for wizards to infiltrate the political infrastructure, why would it be any different in America?

John smiled to himself when he pictured the look on Landry's face if he ever found out that the so called expert on magic was really a wizard. Walking down the hallway Sheppard was lost in his own thoughts mulling over the ins and outs of the meeting with his superiors. He didn't see the FBI man running straight for him until it was too late.

He crashed head first into Sheppard sending the Colonel flailing and falling onto his arse on the cold, grey floor, slamming his arm into the wall as he fell in an attempt to try and catch himself. John sat for a moment wincing as the pain in his left arm crescendoed into an almighty throb of white hot pain. "Bloody hell, that hurts!" he swore from behind clenched teeth.

"Oh my, oh my! I'm so sorry Mr Potter here let me help you up." The FBI guy, reached down a carefully pulled Sheppard to his feet, "Are you okay?" the wizard was eyeing John critically as if expecting Sheppard to break into a thousand shards of glass.

"I'm fine, thanks" the little man was staring at the vivid scar on John's forehead again and cursing himself for knocking 'the Great Harry Potter' over. "Look mate, I'm fine really, I've had much worse than this!" Sheppard unconsciously reverted back to his British accent at being addressed by his former name.

"Yes, yes of course, I am sorry to bother you Mr Potter." The shorter man stood a little taller as if trying to look more imposing. He continued to look at John with barely concealed wonderment and awe. "I just wanted to let you know how glad we all are that your back, why just knowing your alive gives us all great hope!"

"Er, right thanks. Well erm… I'd better be off, you know how it is." Sheppard stood awkwardly as the man shook his had vigorously before toddling off round the corner. "Yeah great hope… we'll see." John looked downcast for a moment, the weight of the world on his shoulders before mentally pulling himself together and striding purposefully in the direction he hoped his team were.

He looked in the infirmary first but to no avail. The blond haired nurse who had checked McKay over battered her eyes at him, when he asked for the whereabouts of his team members. He flirted half-heartedly back until he got the information he desired. She told him that Ronon and Teal'c had gone off together in the direction of the gym so John headed there first. He heard them before he saw them… as well as the crowd of marines all placing bets and shouting encouragement.

The gym was packed, wall to wall marines cheering on Teal'c or Ronon. Sheppard allowed himself a private wager on the outcome before cursing his senior position and breaking up the fun. "Alright back to work marines!"

There was a round of groans and a shuffle of feet as they left the gym. The pair in the middle were totally oblivious to the comings and goings around them as they pounded flesh in an awesome spectacle of brute strength. The 'game' of choice, boxing with no gloves.

"Gentlemen as much as I hate to break this up, I need Ronon to come with me."

Another clash of fist on face before Ronon and Teal'c both stopped, bowed to each other and exchanged a few words. Sheppard didn't catch it all but he got the gist- this is not over.

Shaking his head as Ronon followed him out into the corridor wiping blood from his mouth Sheppard congratulated Ronon on his fantastic 'Diplomatic' skills!

The rest of John's team were ready and rearing to go, when he and Ronon found them in the commissary eating jello and drinking coffee.

When Carson took in Ronon's appearance he exclaimed with worry, "Bloody heck man, what have ya been doin' to ya self now!"

Ronon looked slightly sheepish before replying, "Making friends."

"Yeah, in the traditional Sadean way!" Sheppard added with a laugh.

"Can we go now?" McKay asked impatience written all over his face.

"Yeah, Rodney, we can go now. Let's split." Without waiting for his team to follow, but knowing they would, John walked purposefully out of the commissary and down the hallway.

"John wait… are you okay?" The tentative, sweet voice of Teyla caught up to him, grabbed his right arm and pulled him around to face her and the others who all looked equally concerned for his well-being.

John almost scoffed at the absurdity of the question, of course he wasn't okay! How could he be? His worst and mortal enemy was after him- again, and was probably killing off the reminder of his friends in England right now! But the look in Teyla's eye told him to lie to her, she didn't need his fears, she had enough of her own. And yet, wasn't that exactly what Dumbledore had told him not to do? He felt torn between his instinct to lie and protect her from himself and his worries about Voldemort stealing more of his soul.

Ginny was the one to catch his hesitation, and spoke on his behalf, "No, he's not okay. But Harry… sorry John being John he'd never tell us that, would you?"

"You know me too well Ginny. Actually I was just thinking of telling you the truth." He held his head high in defiance unwilling to appear weak in front of his peers.

"So, go on then, tell us." Rodney looked fiercely at Sheppard; arms folded waiting for John to answer him.

"Alright, alright Rodney. The truth is that, yeah, I'm shit scared okay, it's just that… so are all of you and I didn't want to burden anyone." He looked down at the floor for a moment and then turned away from his friends and continued on down the hallway.

Carson caught him this time by the arm, swung him around to face the group once more, eyeing him darkly, "Your not a burden lad, don't ever think that."

"Its okay to be afraid Sheppard, only fool are not." Having said his piece Ronon took the lead as the group made their way toward an old storeroom.

Sheppard was surprised to find that he felt better knowing that little bit of 'Ronon Wisdom', as the team crammed into the small ill-lit place. "Er John why are we in a storeroom?" Rodney asked.

Sheppard did not answer at first but pulled out his wand and a casting a short spell on a box of bandages. "Because Rodney, were no going to England on a plane… we're going via portkey. All you have to do is touch this box altogether on the count of three and we'll be transported to Diagon Alley in London." Ginny smiled mischievously and giggled when she caught John eye, he smiled back at her as the team looked incredulously at the box. Unsure though they were they trusted Sheppard implicitly so they followed Sheppards instructions none the less. "Any questions? No? good, one, two…"


	15. Chapter fifteen

Sorry its been so long, life and all that.

Fifteen

"…Three!"

They bumped onto the cobbled stones that paved Diagon Alley with a small thud. "Oh ouch! What did you do?" Rodney exclaimed as he rubbed his backside with both hand. "Would it have killed you to give me some warning I was about to drop out of the sky!"

"Sorry Rodney, I guess I forgot how harsh portkey travel can be." John having also landed on his bottom stood and checked his arm to see if he'd caught it, there was no pain though so he guessed it was alright.

"Well a little warning next time, is that too much to ask! So where are we?" having gotten over the shock of be transported across the Atlantic in a flurry of lights, Rodney was now looking around the street critically.

John paused before answering him to take a good look around the once thriving wizard shopping area. The building were all unchanged really, the same shops he had known so long ago. The ice cream parlour was closed now however, a sign over the door read 'closed indefinitely', and the sign which hung from the side of the shop swing precariously on one hinge in the light breeze.

Diagon alley was a ghost of its former self, with many shops boarded up and large ministry of magic poster plastered across the plywood covering the windows. The poster all had various warning and advice from the ministry about Voldemort's return. Some disgruntled wizards had written 'THANKS A LOT!" across several of them.

"Diagon Alley" Sheppard replied succinctly, with a mournful whisper.

John felt a surge of anger that Voldemort's mere presence in the world could cause such devastation to what he thought was the greatest street ever. Off to once side he caught a glimpse of 'Weasley Wizarding Wheezes' with an old poster advertising 'shield hats, and cloaks- will ward of all moderate hexes and curses, a must have for anyone!' It was slowly peeling off the inside window and fell back in to the empty shop. John felt something in him break at the sight and before he knew it he'd walked across the street to stare in at the window.

The floor was dusty with twenty years worth of neglect, shelves had fallen, their contents smashed upon the grimy floor. Ginny crept up beside him and he saw her sad reflection in the murky glass. "He just couldn't bear to stay after George's death. But he couldn't bring himself to sell the shop either. They always did everything together. 'Thick as thieves' Mum used to say."

"I'm so sorry Ginny."

He put his arm on her shoulder expecting her to cry, but instead, she shock herself lightly and replied with a warm if diminutive smile, "It's not your fault."

"What is this place?" Asked Rodney again clearly not impressed by Sheppard's previous lacklustre answer.

"This Rodney is Diagon Alley. It was, once, the busiest and best street for shopping for wizards in all England...Once." He noticed a few shoppers huddling out of Knockturn Alley and rushing off, heads down, towards The Leaky Caldron. He decided to follow if only because the old pub would lead them into mainstream London. "Come on, let's get a pint."

"That more like it lad!" exclaimed Carson. John shot the Doc a warning glance before pulling a woollen black hat out of his pocket and shoving it roughly over his head. Covering his scar effectively in the process, he had no desire to draw attention to himself in the wizarding world.

"Remember if anyone asks tell them we're visiting relatives in Europe and have stopped here on our way across. Got it?" There was a round of nods before the group proceeded to walk across to the brick wall where the entrance to The Leaky Caldron could be found.

"How are we supposed to…?" Rodney finished his sentence with a gasp as John touched the bricks with his wand in the correct combination.

"And try not to look surprised when people use magic. This is a wizards' pub after all."

John led the way into the pub, the massive wooden door creaking loudly on its old rusty hinges.

The bar was sparsely populated, the few people who were there sat hidden in corners, afraid to be seen. No one looked up as the group walked up the bar to order a round of drinks. Ginny, being the most familiar with the place spoke in a hushed voice with old Tom the owner and barkeep. They settled themselves in a dark booth lit with a handful of half burned-out candles. When Tom brought their drinks to them on a tray he stole a quick glance at each of them. His eyebrow rose in either question or understanding when he caught John's eye. Sheppard hazard a guess that his vibrant eyes, coupled with the company of Ginny, may very well have just given him away. Even so he still half trusted the old man and kept his peace.

"Nice sort of place this." said Carson sounding like he really meant to say the exact opposite.

"Why have we stopped for beer? Are we not in a hurry?" impatient as always, Rodney gripped.

"Because Meredith, we would appear rude and very strange if we just walked through the bar to get into muggle London." His voice was laced with sarcasm as he hissed out McKay's first name.

"Fine! Pray tell oh great and wise leader what exactly is 'Muggle London'?" McKay's tone filled with mock reverence when he replied to John's cutting remark.

"Muggle is the term wizards use to describe anyone who does not use magic, like yourself, so muggle London is normal London to you." John sipped his pint enjoying the refreshingly hoppy taste of 'Grindylow's new brew- extra cold'.

There was a feeling of oppression in the bar that made Sheppard feel uneasy. Old Tom was obsessively wiping down the main bar a grimace on his face. Every so often Tom would eye the main door, leading to London, with a cautious, nervous air about him. They downed their drinks in silence, Ronon looking exceedingly pleased to have had the draft of ale. They placed their empty glasses on the counter, politely thanked Tom for his hospitality and promptly left through the adjacent door to which they had entered.

The sky over the city was overcast with grey to almost black clouds drifting overhead. Pigeons flew in crazy patterns across their field of vision, fluttering and squawking over scraps of food passers-by had dropped in the recent past. The tall building gave the street a daunting dismal look, which made John wish for the open landscape of the mainland, with its huts and bonfires. A big Double-Decker bus hurried past them, leaving the group coughing from its exhaust fumes on the curb.

"Now what?" asked Rodney not-unkindly.

"Now we make for Grimmauld place. I take it that's still about the safest place around?" Sheppard asked Ginny. He noticed Teyla and Ronon looking about uncertainly as they took stock of their surrounding. "Don't worry; it's not all like this."

"Yes, it's still the safest place and headquarters." Headquarter… John had almost forgotten about the order of phoenix resistance to Voldemort. Naturally they'd still use the house of Black as its base; it was the only logical place really.

They meandered through the back-streets of London in what appeared to be a course with no aim whatsoever. John led them down back-alleys and shortcuts at a brisk pace and only slowed when his destination appeared before him.

"Grimmauld place, dead ahead." He unconsciously slowed his pace even more as they reached the spot.

"There's nothing here!" exclaimed Carson. John had forgotten about all the charms on the house in his haste. Where he could quite plainly see a large smog-blackened, old building he knew the other, except Ginny of course, would see only a bare space between two other houses.

"Er right, sorry forgot about that. Anyone got a pen and some paper?" With a little flare McKay produced both from his top right hand pocket. He quickly scrawled the address and showed it to the group, making each of them promise not to tell anyone the location. He watch as their faces collectively lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree as the ancient house of Black showed itself to them.

"Cool."

"Yeah, very cool"

Apparently his team were suitably impressed. "I suppose I'd better knock." He rapped on the door three times with his right fist, aware that the noise may well wake the hideous portrait of Mrs Black, his Godfather's mother, inside the hallway. The door creaked open enough for a slender hand to extend a wand, John guess that it belonged to a young female. "Who's there?"

"Its Ginny and some welcome friends." Ginny offered John an apologetic shrug for stepping on his toes but she had felt it unwise to let a stranger to the girl answer her call. Sheppard whole heartedly agreed- he so did not want to have an accidental dual with an ally. The door open fully now to reveal a petite brunet with long unruly hair trailing across her shoulders, John felt a gasp escape his lips at the sight. She was the spitting image of Hermione when she had been younger.

"Aunty Ginny!" the girl cried and threw her arms around her aunt's neck. Ginny hugged her forcefully back and whispered her joy at being reunited in her niece's ear. "You'd best all come in before someone sees."

The house was brighter that the last time he'd seen it. It looked and felt lived in and homely. There was a bare spot on the wall where Mrs Black used to scream her hatred for muggle-born's from. The girl led the group into the kitchen still clutching her aunt's arm protectively as if afraid she might vanish. John knew that feeling and felt his heart go out to the girl, understanding of the situation making his anger at Voldemort fuel anew his need for justice.

Two people sat at the large oak dinning room table both absorbed in a map of Great Britain laid out before them. They were both women, one plump with short grey hair in bouncy curls around her face, the other was much younger, close to John's own age with a ponytail of long brown fluffy hair with flecks of grey. They both looked up from their work as the group piled into the cosy room. He recognised them both immediately. He removed his hat and stood awkwardly at the forefront of the group.

"Harry? Is it really you?"

"Harry?" both women rose from their chairs their faces pale with shock at the sight of him.

"Hello, Mrs Weasley, Hermione." He found it hard to speak and could not look either one in the eye.

"Why don't I show you all to your rooms whilst they get reacquainted?" suggested Ginny. He felt numerous pats on his arm or shoulder as his team along with Ginny and her niece departed.

"Where have you been?" Mrs Weasley spoke kindly to him and he could feel his exterior crack under her scrutiny. She's always been like a mother to him, and he felt like he had betrayed her trust by allowing one of her sons to die on his watch. He stared at the floor afraid of what his expression might reveal.

"Harry? Look at me." Hermione demanded and no matter what his feeling he knew he owed both of them an apology and an explanation. He looked up to find both had drawn closer to him as if to examine his state. He forced himself to hold Hermione's gaze for a moment before moving on the give Molly the same curtsey. What he saw shocked him; there was no malice or hatred in either pair of eyes only regret and concern for him.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione could take it no longer and threw her arms around him, her tears making his jacket damp. When she eventually let go, Molly flung herself at him too and he hugged her back for all it was worth. Clinging to her as he shed a few tears of his own.

When at last they parted there was not a dry eye to be found. Hermione took his hand and led him to a chair where he sat with Molly on his left and Hermione on his right. Neither one of them seamed to be able to control themselves and unconsciously kept touching his arm or brushing his hair back for him. He didn't mind, their need for physical contact to reassure them that he was, indeed real. He felt the same urges himself. They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes drinking in each other presence before Molly proclaimed rather loudly that John looked like a starved scarecrow. To which she then proceeded to bustle into the kitchen to make him so real food to 'put some meat on your bones'.

Whilst she was off, and John shrewdly though it might be for this very reason she had gone, He and Hermione talked.

"You've changed" she observed.

"So have you." He found the conversation hard to start having such a huge crevice metaphorically between them. "Where to begin?" he asked.

"You left us." There was no ulterior motive for bring up this piece of history; it was a simple statement of truth.

"I know. I had to, I couldn't stay, you understand that don't you?"

"I understand that you needed time, but so much of it!? We were all hurting too. It wasn't just your friends that died Harry but mine and Ron's as well. Then you left too. Nothing but a parcel containing your worldly goods and a brief note for twenty years!" she remained calm as she spoke but her eyes betrayed her feeling of hurt and abandonment.

"I am sorry, but it's the way it had to be. I've made a new life for myself, it hasn't always been easy but I couldn't live a normal wizard life after all we'd been through. Knowing that wizards everywhere would want a piece of me, I never wanted celebrity Hermione you know that." She nodded her head in understanding and continued to brush his hair from his face, lovingly like a sister would.

"So what have you been doing all this time then?" He told her everything from the day he left England. How he changed his appearance and went to college. How he joined the United States Air Force and became a pilot. How he fought in wars and eventually how he ended up in another galaxy in an alien city spending his days exploring and fighting the Wraith. Molly had rejoined them and laid plates full of goodies on the table. They sipped their tea and listened as he told his strange, strange tale. Hermione was curious about the Ancients and he explained what he could until his team arrived back having been tempted by the delicious smell of Molly's cooking.


	16. Chapter sixteen

Please don't kill me I know it a cliff hanger but trust me I know what happens next so it'll be up quite soon (as in a day or two). Sorry for the delay in posting but I really need to hammer out where the heck this story is going, which I think I have now. Thank you all for your continued support. Enjoy.

Sixteen

The atmosphere was one of joy. The prodigal son had returned and everyone ate heartily and drank merrily. John found himself feeling something he had long forgotten- love. He felt at home, not that Atlantis hadn't felt like home but he'd always held a part of himself back, never letting people get in, to see the real John. But sitting here surrounded by his friends and family he felt truly warm for the first time in years. The fire blazing in the corner cracked with life as if sensing the joy in the room. A loud bang permeated the group as the front door was slammed shut. John felt his heart sink and his gaiety was sapped out of him with that noise. A tall man wearing a dark coloured cloak entered the room and stood there, his mouth slackened with shock. His short messy hair a violent shade of orange was damp with dew from the cold night air.

"Hermione?" he spoke with a quiver in his strong voice and his eyes were locked on John's scar. "Is that…?"

Hermione stood, her chair making a scraping noise that seamed so much louder now that all conversation had ceased. "Yes Ron, it's him. He's finally come home."

"My God Harry, Where the bloody hell have you been?" John stood, indicating to his team with a cock of his head that it was okay, when he saw that they looked ready to defend his honour. He pushed his chair back almost casually and walked towards the door where Ron still stood in consternation. He felt his heart hammering against his rib cage the fear and worry mixing with exuberance at seeing his old best friend.

"Hi Ron." He said sheepily watching his friends face for any emotion other than shock. John had a sneaking suspicion that Ron was perhaps a little angry with him.

"Don't you 'hi Ron' me! Where on earth have you been all this time! We've been going out of our minds with worry!" Ron shot Hermione a warning glance when she made to stop him from speaking his mind.

"I'm sorry Ron, I had to leave… I couldn't stay here." John made to move forward, to touch Ron's shoulder, but Ron flinched away a look of deep hurt across his face. "I…I did what I felt I had to do." He wouldn't apologise anymore for his past, he'd been a kid, a scared and lonely kid.

"You… you just left us to pick the pieces without you." Ron looked almost fragile and it was in that moment that he realised just how much pain and suffering he had caused by abandoning them.

"I… I… I need some air." John managed to stammer, though his throat was working against him. He didn't look at his team even though he could feel their eyes boring into his back as he pushed past Ron who had remained by the door. He didn't close the kitchen door so he heard Hermione admonish Ron with a 'well go after him then you dolt!' he simply picked up his pace and ran down the hall, opened the front door and sucked in the cool night air with relish. "Oh God… what am I doing?" he questioned himself. He needed to clear his head, to think. With a quick backwards glance at the house he ran into the cold night baring left toward the middle of muggle London. Running always helped to shake emotions from his thoughts so his ran on heading for Regents Park where he could run circles around the footpaths there.

The park was dark and mysterious looking in this light. He been here only once before the day Hagrid had taken him to Diagon alley the first time to purchase his 'wizarding bit and bobs' as the giant of a man had put it. They had taken the scenic route because Harry had never been to London before and was eager to see the sights of the capital city. They'd visited many places and tourist attractions that day including London zoo for a quick look at the penguins. Hagrid said it was a shambles to have never seen the sights but John suspected that he just wanted to look at the animals! Hagrid always was a sucker for all the creatures of the animal kingdom, especially those with fangs. The ornate white houses that lined the park were all dark and eerie looking in the pale moonlight. John slowed his pace to a light jog before hoisting himself up and over the fence circling the green. The night was pleasant, quiet with a covering of light clouds above poking out through the dense leaves on the branches of the horse chestnuts. They rustled as the wind began to pick up and John wrapped his arms around his chest protectively for warmth. He really needed to go back, his team would be worried about him but something about the place made him linger. The cool air took a sharp decline and the wind howled suddenly and John felt something that filled his being with dread. A familiar wave of cold swept over him and his breath caught in his throat, making him gasp. A flash of memory danced before his eyes, Voldemort's spell hitting Neville in the back- his friend dropping to the floor like stone, it was gone only to be replaced by a more pressing and real fear. "Dementors, damn it!" a thick fog moved in to trap him trailing behind at least fifty of them. He was surrounded. His vision began to fog as he tried to concentrate; he pulled his wand from his back pocket and desperately recalled the memory of flying he knew could save him. He was so focussed on the memory he almost forgot to speak the words,

"Expecto Patronum!" he wand spluttered a thin silvery film but did not form the magnificent stag which personified prongs. The leading dementor was close now, so close he could smell its foul stench which reeked of death and decay. His patronus charm died on the tip of his wand as a grey slimy hand reached for his neck.

"Expecto Patronus!" he cried again thinking of every happy memory he could muster. His wand shook a little glowed silver but not even a wisp of it touched the dementor hell bent on giving him a 'kiss'. His memories were muddled again and he saw the face of Ford twisted and menacing before it morphed into Sumner's wizened old features. He heard someone scream his name as the hand around his neck tightened. He looking into the sockets where eyes should be and knew he was a dead man. His wand fell limply from his hand and the fog in his mind took over as darkness consumed him.


	17. Chapter seventeen

As promised - the next chapter… not a cliff hanger as such… enjoy.

(can i just say OMG i've got like nearly 100 reviews! thank you all- hugs and kisses for everyone- Angelwings does a happy dance!)

Seventeen

"Bloody fool!" Carson's thick brogue sliced through the fog in his brain, his head was swimming, groggily he tried to open his eyes.

"What the hell were those… those things?!" Ah Rodney demanding as always.

"Rodney, not now, I think he's waking up. Colonel are you alright?" Teyla laid her hand on his shoulder and shook lightly. He groaned as he tried again to open his weary eyes. His brain felt slow, people were talking around him but he found it hard to focus on any one voice. His eyes fluttered open on the view of Teyla's face peering down at him with concern. "John?" she said softly.

"I'm good." He answered with a slight slur as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. His whole team were there around the bed, which by the looks of it was at Grimmauld place. The room was sparsely lit with a few candles some on the hearth others on his bedside table. The first snatches of daylight were just beginning to creep into the room through the window. He spied Hermione and Ron standing off to one side, a look of guilt on his old friend's face. He decided to avoid harder emotional conversation for later and sort out the facts first. "The dementors, what happened?" he couldn't quite understand how he was still alive. Last thing he remembered was staring at the dementor's non-eyes as it tried to give him the kiss.

"You nearly died, that's what happened! Fancy running off into the night when you know damn well Voldewart or whatever his name is, is after you!" Rodney was pacing the room now, his hands wringing with worry. John knew he'd been stupid but he'd only gone for a little run, how was he supposed to know the dementors would be looking for him.

"Alright Rodney I get it. Don't go for a walk in the park with scary monsters who want to kill me." He didn't mean to snap at his friend but he was starting to get sick of all the codling and babysitting his friends wanted to do to him. "Thanks for the warning."

"Fine." With that Rodney turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Carson shot him a look that said 'was that really called for' and then proceeded to follow Teyla and Ronon out of the room.

"We'll be back later John." Teyla said with smile to reassure him that alls well. John groaned again in frustration held his head in his hands for a moment to collect himself and calm down, before saying something else he'd regret to Ron and Hermione.

"I see you've not lost your way with people." Ron smirked as he came closer to the bed and sat down beside John. Hermione rolled her eyes in a practiced manner and sat on John's other side.

"Funny, you taking that act on the road?" he caught Ron's eye and for a moment they were teenagers again, sharing some private joke. Ron's face had changed somewhat over the years but his eyes were a mischievous as they had ever been even with the crows feet in the corners.

"No, are you taking yours?" John raised an eyebrow in mock seriousness before all three of them burst into fits of laughter. It felt good to laugh again, the past week had been one long stressful ordeal for John and it felt wonderful to let his muscles relax and enjoy his friends company. "Look mate, I'm sorry about earlier, I shouldn't…" John cut him off with a wave of his hand,

"No, no it's okay, really. I should have told you guys where I was before now." He was smiling so much his face hurt but damn it felt good.

"So what are we going to do about Voldemort?" Both Ron and John turned to face Hermione who sat with a sombre expression. John looked away from her and pulled the covers back. He ran his hands through his wild hair as he walked over to lean against the window, his breath causing condensation to form on the glass. The night was almost over and the sun was sneaking up from behind the house in east. The sky was awash with orange and pink, the wispy clouds shining gold on the horizon. He nodded his head slightly as if coming to agreement with Hermione's question. His stomach clenched with fear and doubt coiled around his heart, there was no choice to be made however, this was why he had come across the galaxy. He straightened his shoulders and stood tall,

"We're going to destroy the last Horcrux and then I will kill Voldemort for the last time." His voice was strong and powerful and he meant every word he spoke. Even if it was the last thing he ever did, he would make Voldemort pay for the lives he had ruined. He would pay for the deaths of John's parents and friend, for the deaths of Dumbledore and Sirius. He would pay for the sufferings of all those left behind like Mrs Weasley and George.

"And we'll be with you Harry, just like always." Ron stated as he stood and crossed the room to hold his right hand out for John to shake. John looked him straight in the eye and saw the same determination and unwavering courage he felt inside. He accepted Ron's hand and shook it firmly. Before he knew what was happening Strong arms pulled him into a brotherly embrace and Ron exclaimed "Come here you daft bugger!"

He hugged his friend back grateful for his support until they were both accosted by a mass of fluffy brown hair. They hugged Hermione too, as she proclaimed "You two never change!"

John laughed with mirth; this felt right, his friends and him facing the unknown together once more. They chatted about old times for a short while before Mrs Weasley appeared at the door to inform them that breakfast was ready. They made their way down stairs still giggling like school children and took their seats at the long oak table piled high with an assortment of goodies. John felt sure the old table would collapse under the weight of so many plates of delicious smelling food. There were sausages, bacon, beans, boiled eggs, fried toast and more tea to sink a battleship. His team was already there tucking in, Rodney enjoying a bacon buttie more than anyone should. They all smiled when a dollop of brown sauce escaped the side of his sandwich and dropped down his blue t-shirt.

"Oh that's fine, laugh at the genius!" Rodney looked slightly embarrassed as he wiped the fruity sauce of his top with a finger. John shared a warm smile with his king-geek and he knew there were no hard feelings about his outburst earlier. They finished their meal and while Molly and Ginny were clearing away, the other discussed the plan of action.

"I have to go to Godric's Hollow, that's where the locket is." Dumbledore had been vague on the details and John still had no idea who RAB was, not that it mattered. He knew where to find the locket and the spell to destroy it once and for all.

"Your parent's house? Why is it there?" Hermione asked looking worried. She didn't like the idea of Harry going up against Voldemort again even though she knew there was no other way. She had only just gotten him back and wasn't all that keen on losing him again.

"I have no idea why its there- I just know that it is, we leave in five hours. I want everyone to be rested and ready for anything." Around the table his team and his friends nodded in understanding. "Five hours then." He nodded, rose from his chair and left the room to begin preparing himself for the next onslaught.


	18. Chapter eighteen

AN: sorry about delays, you know how it is. Who's beside themselves with excitement at the thought of reading HP7? I know I am! Of course this story will be even more AU then, than it already is! Ah well.

Eighteen

A tentative knock on his door awoke John from his light slumber. He checked his watch and noted that his five hours was almost up. "Come in" he called to his alarm clock. Mrs Weasley opened the door and stepped into the room, she looked tired to John, an inner pain resonating from her eyes. She wore a patchwork skirt of reds and oranges with a frilly cream coloured blouse. Her wild hair, mostly grey now, was being barely tamed by a clip.

"Can I have a word with you Harry?" he wanted to correct her on his name, but like with Dumbledore in seemed unnatural for her to call him anything other than the name of his childhood days.

"Of Course Mrs Weasley, how can I help?" She looked at the floor unwilling to meet his gaze and for a heart stopping moment John though she was going to shout at him. Instead she sat on the end of the bed and motioned with her hand for him to sit beside her. John took a deep breath, knowing that this would likely be a difficult conversation. It was just a gut feeling he had, and his gut had never let him down before.

"When George died, Fred… he, it was like he died too." Molly looked up and met John's eye for the first time and saw remorse in their green depths, and she gently squeezed his knee. "Oh I don't blame you Harry, I know you wanted to face 'him' alone; they wanted to fight. You all wanted to fight, so eager to go and be hero's the lot of you. Fools! We all were I suppose."

John wasn't entirely sure where this was going, but felt compelled to hear about life after he'd left. Just as Molly felt the desire to tell him. He hesitantly placed his hand on her shoulder in a show of support. She reached up and patted him on that hand in a way only a mother can. "Did Ron tell you about Arthur?" John shook his head, he had been wondering where Mr Weasley was, he guess that he was at the burrow or else busy with ministry work. "He passed away, about four years ago."

"Oh I'm so sorry" John felt a pang in his heart at the sad news. Mr Weasley had always been so kind to him, and had always treated him like one of his sons. "Truly I am."

"Oh, don't be, he's in a better place as they say." She smiled briefly but the curve of her lips never met her eyes, shining with unshed tears. "He left something, I have no use for it and I want you to have it Harry." She reached into the sleeve of her blouse and pulled out a small golden hourglass dangling from a fine chain. "I want you to keep them safe."

"A time-turner!" John exclaimed as she placed the necklace in his outstretched hand.

"I won't lose anymore of my family! I can't bear the thought!" She let of a small sob, wrapped her arms around John's neck and cried into the fabric of his jacket. He understood. She wanted him to keep her family safe because they were once again risking their lives to help him to defeat Lord Voldemort. He hated that it had come to this, but truth be told, when it came to magic he would need their help. He carefully ran his finger over her hair, in an attempt to console her. His other hand was still clutching the precious device which could potentially help him to save a life; a member of her family.

"I promise, I will do everything in my power to protect them, I swear it to you right now. And believe me, I will avenge the dead, he will pay for what he's done." She sat straight and rubbed her red, puffy eyes, whispered "Thank you" before she stood and left the room.

John sat for a moment, the time-turner in his hand. He remembered the first time he'd ever seen one, in the infirmary at Hogwarts. He smiled as he remembered Hermione using it to get to class and how they used it to save themselves along with Sirius and Buckbeak the Hippogriff. He slipped the chain around his neck, where it clanged against his dog-tags. He grabbed his wand and put it in his back pocket, his M9 he strapped to his thigh and clipped his P90 to his tac-vest. He would be facing the most feared wizard in the world, sooner or later, and John planned to do it armed to the teeth. He rechecked his extra ammo and grenades and proceeded out the door and down the stair to meet his team- plus three.

Mrs Weasley wasn't there to see them off as they stood in the kitchen, preparing to use the floo network to reach Godric's Hollow. John imagined she was upstairs trying to keep herself busy and her mind of the mission. He team were there, Carson sat drinking tea, as he would not be coming. John had made it quite clear that the Doc wasn't to go anywhere near battle and so a field trip out of Grimmauld place was out of the question. He would have preferred it to be just him and his fellow wizards but his team would not be placated and as they kept reminding him, they weren't military. Insubordinate gits, the lot of em, John thought, but was wise enough not to voice his feelings.

"Okay is everyone set?" a chorus of 'yeah', 'sure' and a 'mmm' from Rodney told him they were all prepared. Not as prepared as John would have liked, a team of Aurors and Major Lorne and his marines would come in handy, but he'd learnt long ago to take what ya' get.

"Ron and I will go first to secure the area, Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, stick together and stay by Hermione, she's bring up the rear." Teyla and Ronon looked at him gone out, when he suggested they use Hermione for protection, but it made the most sense; she could use magic- they could not. Rodney gave John a quirk of his lips and then moved closer to the witch.

"When did you get all 'military', honestly Harry, stop bossing people around!" Hermione giggled as she spoke, but drew her wand and shuffled a little nearer to the muggles.

"Er Hermione, I am military remember?"

"Right" he took a handful of floo powder from the dish by the hearth and quickly explained the concept to his team. Rodney grabbed a fist full and began scanning it with his LSD.

"Rodney it's magic! You can examine it later!" he shook his head in mock despair and stepped into the grate. "Godric's Hollow" he spoke loud and clear, and then in a flash of Green flame he was gone.


	19. Chapter nineteen

Nineteen

He emerged from the fire grate, and stepped onto the bare wooden floor of his childhood home. The room was unlit and shadows lurked in the corners, spilling out into the centre where the furniture lay strewn, smashed and dirty. The darkness was kept at bay simply by the pale light breaking through the ripped curtains. The whole place had a damp, eerie feel as if monsters from his past were lying in wait. He heard Ron enter a few moments after into, what he supposed had once been a fine living room fit for a family to congregate in. He acknowledged Ron with a quick 'hey', and proceeded to move cautiously about, being careful not to dislodge items from where they fell, all those years ago. He heard other members of his team enter the building, Rodney being the most vocal about the disarray. "You lived here?"

Sheppard ignored Rodney's words, letting the atmosphere override his other senses; he could feel that something was not quite right. It felt almost sacrilegious to move things, like disturbing someone else's precious memories, by stamping unceremoniously upon them. The dust swirled around his feet as he moved forward to a door, barely on its hinges, having been blasted years before. He poked his wand cautiously around the frame, signalling with his other hand for the other to remain still. The 'new' room was even darker than the living room, the furniture a meagre pile of rubble, with a tall cloaked figure standing directly in the middle of the chaos. His eyes widened with surprise, and he ducked from the spell Voldemort sent his way. "He's here! Get back everyone, back to base!"

There was pandemonium behind him, as his team stumbled around the ill-lit room, some to follow his orders and other to come to his aid. John moved with speed away from the door, firing a solid round from his P90 into the remains of the door, and hopefully his enemy too. He saw Ginny by the fire grate, desperately struggling to find the floo powder so they could return home, with Rodney at her side, bitching, but holding fast to his M9 in sturdy hands. Teyla was by his side, her gun firing at the darkness as more and more flashes of light came from the other room. Ron and Hermione were firing back with all their might, Ronon covering them with reassuring blasts from his gun. There was shouting, screaming but John filtered it all out concentrating on getting his team the hell out of dodge. They may have chosen to come with him, but he would rather die than let anyone of them get hurt, he would not have a repeat of the forest. There would be no 'Georges' on his watch!

He felt the ground beneath him shake, lightly at first, like being at a concert too near to the speakers, but soon it changed…and became a violent earthquake, leaving him on his arse, his gun across the room and blood spilling from his head. The next thing he knew he was bouncing around the room desperately trying to stand, as the floor boards, soil, rock and foundations of the house seemed to explode upwards, taking his team with them. He heard the deafening roar of the house, the cries of his friends and the laugh of his enemy. Body parts were flying around, his own among them; he no longer knew who's leg had accidentally kicked him in the ribs or if he'd just cause Ginny to scream in agony. As soon as it began it stopped. He found himself face down, weapon-less somewhere near a mass of brown hair. His whole body ached, his head pounding in competition with his heart as it thundered in his chest. The laughter had ceased, but now, he looked up as Voldemort stood above him, reached down and with pale cold fingers, griped his neck. He heard a cry from a female, presumably not the unconscious brunette, lying still on the floor.

"And now Harry Potter, you will watch as I exterminate your pitiful friends" Voldemort's voice was lofty as ever, but calm, pleased. He clawed at his throat, trying frantically to remove Voldemort's hand, kicking the older man in the shin.

"Tut tut, Harry. Avada Kavara!" John tried to scream, instead he watched in horror as Ronon having stood, fell to the floor dead.

"Noooooooo" Rodney shouted from somewhere towards his right, and with another spell he too was silenced forever, McKay's pugnacious mouth still open in protest, and his pale blue eyes were void of all that made Rodney, Rodney. Tears of pain and anger welled in John's own eyes and he fought harder against his captor, but the next spell was for him, and he fell to the floor, his legs having turned to jelly. He could see his wand just out of reach, his legs wobbling about violently.

"Please, it's me you want let them go!" he'd never begged in his life, especially never to his greatest adversary but if it could possibly save his friends, he would do anything.

"You've gone soft Harry! There was a time you would never beg, even to me, the greatest wizard who ever lived." Voldemort was mocking him, and he knew it.

With another spell Teyla died, then Ron and Ginny, until only Hermione remained, out cold in the dirt. John stared at their bodies and when Voldemort lifted the spell on his legs, he knelt and wept into his hands. He was barely aware of the other man's presence as he cried, sobbed, his hands wringing through his hair, his blood coating his hands. He crawled to Hermione and nuzzled her hair, whispering 'I'm sorry' over and over to her unconscious form, until a voice called to him, high pitched and menacing.

He spied his wand from the corner of his eye, lying near Hermione's knee, carefully, trying to attract minimum attention to his actions, he slowly leaned across her, grasping his wand in his left hand, the bandage now bloodied and dirty. Slowly he pushed his wand under the filthy bandages, successfully concealing it from prying eyes. He felt Hermione begin to stir beneath him, but knew there was little he could do for her. Silently he prayed that she die before she saw her husband's prone body, eyes at half mast under a mass of ginger hair. He had a plan, he couldn't save her this time, but perhaps he could in another.

"Harry, it's over. You couldn't save your friends before and you have failed again now. You cannot beat me so why keep trying? You're a pathetic excuse for a wizard! You couldn't defeat me even with all the time in the world!" now John snorted, a broken but not defeated laugh. He gripped the time-turner in his fist and carefully rose; turning the dial he faced Voldemort. He had a promise to keep.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, his throat raw making it hard to speak "Maybe so, but I have all the time in the world, so we'll see won't we?" he exclaimed defiantly.

He saw Voldemort's hideous red eyes glaze with anger, and his wand rise, as he vanished from the room in a flurry of time and space.

_AN: I'm so sorry this took so long to write… my bad. Don't worry, I'm sure It'll turn out okay in the end :P _

_I'd guess there's about three more chapters, and I have already written the next, so give me a day or so to work out the kinks in the plot (what possessed me to try and write about time travel?!) there's whump ahead too! Let me know what you think, any ideas for improvement welcome. _


	20. Chapter twenty

_I hope you like this, it took me a very long time to sort the plot out but I'm finally happy with it. There's three more chapters to go, if you have any suggestions for things you'd like to see, let me know and if it fits I'll write it in. thank you to everyone, I can't believe this story has so many reviews and to thing it started as a one-shot! xxx_

Twenty

John screwed his eyes tightly shut as the time-turner took him back. The experience was dizzying to say the least, worse than pulling some serious gees coupled with a hangover from Mexican-tequila-hell. He fell to his knees on to a hardwood floor once the trip had ended. A cloud of dust immediately began to chock him in revenge for disturbing its peaceful slumber. He coughed, spluttered, tears running anew down his grubby cheeks. They were all dead; his team, his friend; his family. He'd broken his promise to Molly, even though at this moment in time, he had yet to make it. He checked his watch, but it told the future time, he had travelled back over ten hours, back in time but not in space. He was still at Godric's Hollow, still morning his family.

"The locket!" his breath was harsh, as his battered ribs tried to allow his body to obtain enough oxygen. He scrambled to his feet, swaying with exertion and dizziness, and wiped his sleeve over his eyes in anger. Blood dripped into his eyes from the harsh cut above his eyebrow, and his ribs protested every movement. His face, half covered with bruising, that was just starting to show and an array of angry purple and deep crimson could be seen on his formerly uninjured arm. Trying not to look at the floor where he knew in ten hours the bodies of his fallen comrades would be, he moved swiftly into the back rooms of the little house. There was no sign of Voldemort, but he reasoned that was because he was currently in Regent's park making sure the John Sheppard of this time was being attacked by dementors. He threw broken tables, chairs, cabinets and every other item he could lay his hands on around the room in a fit of rage. His previous feeling of this place being sacred to him now beyond tarnished. Gone forever like his parents and their love for their only son.

"Noooo" his voice broke, as did his temper, when he open a bureau draw only to find photos, letters, and personal items which once belonged to a happy family. John palmed the contents and thrust it roughly into his pocket. It belonged to him now. He stomped around the tiny battered house until he found the spot Dumbledore had told him of. Quickly he ripped the old picture of some witch from the wall and discarded it thoughtlessly. Behind was a lose rock, in the brickwork. He wiggled it free, blood now seeping down his hand from the wound on his wrist, mixing with the grim and muck, creating eerie patterns down his slender fingers. There it was- mocking him as it glistened in the moonlight, cascading through the broken window pane. He grabbed it and set it on a near by table.

The locket looked exactly like the replica had; the years doing nothing to its golden hew. If looks could kill- he stared at it, willing it to give him a fight, but it just lay motionless and serene. Summoning all the energy he could he produced his wand and spoke the incantation Dumbledore taught him. A radiant purple light grew from the tip of his wand and encased the loathsome item. It quivered and rose from the table, a violent scream erupted from within, and John fought hard to maintain the powerful spell. With a final tooth shattering cry the locket snapped clean in half, and dropped back, all power leaving it. A dark, smoky shadow drifted upwards from it, then vanished in a flash of white noise and bright lights. John's legs gave out from under him, and he smacked his knees hard on the bare floor.

Shaking he pulled himself up, picked up the pieces of the locket and hurriedly turned a fallen lamp into a portkey. He knew Voldemort would be there any moment, so he left his old home and went to a relatively safe place to hide out until it was time to rejoin his friends.

He slammed into the grass outside a derelict old house. It must have been grand once, but now ivy grew across windows, and paint fell from the shingles. He had picked this place for one reason and one reason only. Voldemort would find him wherever he goes, but would never in a million years expect Harry Potter to stand waiting for him at his 'filthy muggle father's grave'. He shuddered at the memories of this place, the nightmares it induced.

Trying desperately to ignore the pounding in his heart he pulled a bandage from his tac vest and roughly wrapped it around his wounded arm. He would wait here, Voldemort would come and one way or another, this would be over; finally, mercifully over. Quickly and efficiently, he used his ordinance to set a perimeter around the grave; if his spells couldn't kill his enemy, then good old brain power of the celebrated military mind just might. He was careful to position himself as far from the blasts as possible, but even so, he would in all likelihood acquire a few cuts and bruises to add to the growing collection.

He summoned the spell he knew would have Voldemort come running, after all it was his own calling card. The dreaded dark mark. He didn't have long to wait. John had little in the way of a plan, but he did have a wand in one hand and a grenade in another, his hopes were resting on his ability to unnerve Voldemort and use the phoenix song like before. All the horcruxes were gone; he only needed to get one lucky shot, because now the man was mortal, just like him. Voldemort appeared in a cloud of black mist, and walked purposefully toward John, standing for the second time in his life, on the grave of Tom Riddle.

"You dare to summon me? The Dark Lord is not at your beck and call!" his hideous features morphed by fury, his red eyes glued on John.

"Evidently you are, Tom Riddle." John spoke with confidence, knowing it would shake his nemesis.

Voldemort actually spluttered, before continuing, "How dare you, you filthy half-breed!" his bought his wand up to strike but John was too quick for him, and one of his little landmines exploded to the right of them.

"Takes one to know one!" Sheppard screamed, and threw the grenade, which Voldemort caught. He examined it for a moment, before the device turned to dust before John's astonished eyes.

"You shall pay for that Harry Potter! Avada Kavara!" John dodged the spell, which exploded the headstone behind him.

"My name is JOHN SHEPPARD! Avada Kavara!" once again he heard the phoenix song in his head, as their wands collided.

"Noooooooo" Voldemort's high pitch wail sent birds flying from the nearby trees in panic. Another spell rocked John's wand, but he held fast, as the golden light flooded and surrounded them, encasing the two men, in a mortal battle for supremacy. John's will was strong and he fought the frightful pain in his head, reaching down he pulled his knife from his side.

They floated above the ground, struggling to kill each other. Sheppard pulled the knife up towards Voldemort's chest even as his right arm shook with exertion from holding his quivering wand. He watched as Voldemort's eyes grew wide with shock and fear, and John felt nothing but hatred for the monster that had ruined his life. Voldemort tried to twist his body away, but his frail form was no match for John, and he plunged the knife deep into his chest. John slid the knife in with such force he felt bone crumble and snap under his onslaught. Voldemort's wand slipped from his fingers and the spell was broken.

Both men fell to the ground with a thud, as more of Sheppard's landmines exploded around them, throwing earth and rock into the air. For a moment both men lay side by side, panting, desperately drawing breath into weary lungs. John felt his head splitting with pain, rolled over and retched into the dew sodden grass. A rasping voice called to him, so he turned and faced the once most feared wizard.

"H… Harry… I… I will…" Sheppard reached down, mercilessly pulled the knife from Voldemort's chest and said,

"I feel nothing for you, not even hate." He drew the blade high above his head and thrust it back into Tom Riddle's body, twisting it until the soulless fiend, drew breath no more. Sheppard watched as the light went from his eyes and knew he was free. John gasped, and fell back upon his heel in the damp soil. He felt a deep shock, his mortal enemy was finally dead, the empty body bleeding before him, and yet he felt empty.

He was rubbing his eyes with his hands, trying to comprehend, when a golden thread snaked from Voldemort's heart and entwined itself around John's own body. He felt a relief of such magnitude he could scarcely understand as his soul was made whole again. He closed his eyes and let the tears spill from his lids.

Sheppard's time here was almost up- he needed to stop a massacre, to save his friends. Moving with caution, and pain he forced himself to move. Checking the time-turner, he took the blade, turned it into a portkey, and began his journey home.


	21. Chapter twenty one

Twenty one

John has just stepped through the grate when the doorbell rang. Hermione stood with Teyla and Ronon ready to do battle; she would have ignored the knock, except no one was supposed to know they were here- even the muggle postman couldn't find them. She looked furtively around the room unsure of what to do; answer the door or follow Harry to Godric's hollow? This time someone banged and kicked on the door, and she determined to answer. "I'd better get that, no one ever comes here."

He husband looked worried; he wanted to help Harry, but was unwilling to leave his wife to answer the door to potential enemies. Voldemort had already attacked once today, who was to say he wouldn't again? Harry's team were eyeing each other, Ron admired and longed for the closeness they had. The easy with which they acted toward each other- words were not needed, they were worried about their 'John', his Harry, and a mutiny was clearly brewing within them.

Hermione open the door with care, poking her wand outside and called "hello?"

Harry stood there, looking worse for wear. There was blood matted into his hair, drying down the side of his handsome face. Mud and dirt clung to his clothes with even more blood splattered over his top. In short, he looked like shite. His eyes were wide, with a desperate, wild look, mixed in with the obvious pain, he was trying unsuccessfully to conceal.

"Oh my God, Harry!" She swung the door open wide, grabbed Harry's arm forcefully and yanked him into the building. Unbalanced by her 'care', John stumbled on tired legs and fell into Hermione, and they both cascaded into the hallway with a clash of bodies sprawled about the old tiled floor.

Voices were calling him, swirling around his head. He blanked out for a few moments, content in the knowledge that he'd heard all their voices. Filled with shock, worry and love for him but most importantly, they were there. All of them- alive. If his heart could burst though his chest with glee, it surely would have done so.

There were arms grabbing him, lifting him off the floor. He whimpered and moaned in agony, as his battered body was moved. He needed to explain, the words were chocked up in his throat, and he rasped "Voldemort's… gone."

He heard gasps of disbelief around him, he reached out and somehow found Molly's arm. She bent down to listen to him, as his friends lowered him onto the soft sofa, in the kitchen. "I kept my promise." He whispered through harsh breaths. She looked ready to cry, as Carson started to fuss. John lost his battle with sleep, a few moments later.

He woke to someone humming softly near his ear. Wiping the sleep from his eye, he turned and bathed in the image before him. Teyla was there, reading a book, by his bedside. He stared around the room, unwilling to disturb her. He knew exactly where he was- he knew the sights and smell better than anywhere on earth, or not on earth as the case my be. Atlantis. He could feel his city humming and cooing in his hear. A wave of peace swept across him. He'd made it back home. He shifted slightly in the bed and winced when his ribs protested the move. Teyla quickly called for Dr Beckett and proceeded to help him into a sitting position. "Thanks Teyla."

Carson came rushing into John's room with Rodney and Ron in tow. Sheppard did a double take when he saw his old friend- clearly there were question that needed answering. "Hey buddy, you're awake!"

Astute, very astute.

"So it seems. What's going on? How did we all get back here?" John asked, hoping Rodney would provide the answers- which he did.

"Oh, well you fainted…" John cleared his throat at the use of the 'forbidden' word.

"Right, passed out. Anyway, that happened so Hermione, Ginny and Ron here, decided to use a portkey to get us all home to Atlantis because you needed medical attention and Carson didn't trust the wizard Dr." he finished succinctly.

"Nutshell eah?" John caught Ron's eye and they both suppressed a smirk at McKay's response.

"Pretty much, yes… you know… in a nutshell." He looked furtively between the two old school friends, causing them both to abandon the pretence and laugh out loud.


	22. Chapter twenty two

I am SOOOOO SORRY, I wrote this ages ago and I thought I'd posted it – apparently not! Damn. I am really sorry guys, forgive me? 

twenty two

It took time - a few pained weeks, but John Sheppard was finally released for active duty. It had been a rollercoaster ride. His friends old and new were really enjoying sharing storied about him with each other. He wasn't sure he liked being talked about so much but at least it was all being kept in the 'family' as it were. Elizabeth had been so pleased to see him alive and well she'd forgotten all formality and hugged him tightly, her pretty eyes brimming with tears. The scars on his arm would heal and fad. Eventually no one would notice and that was good enough for John. The curious glances from the scientists of Atlantis would stop too, he hoped. They and the military personal could often be found gossiping, trying to pry. Lorne kept the military in check, they knew not to say anything to Sheppard, lest he rip them a new one. The scientists, under McKay's 'care' we quivering in fear when their head geek 'explained' that gossiping about the man responsible for them still breathing was not nice. Quietly John was touched.

Using his wand, he had once again removed his scar. His eyes he kept vibrant green. Out in the Pegasus galaxy it was damn unlikely he'd be recognized as Harry Potter and honestly, he didn't really care even if someone did call him on it. He no longer felt ashamed of his past. He realized that George, Luna, Neville and countless others hadn't died because of him. They had died in spite of him. He could live with that.

Turning the corner, he entered the main control room. The atmosphere was apprehensive and quiet. Today the kind, strange friends of John Sheppard were leaving to return to their homes in England. They were huddled in the gate room. Teyla and Ginny hugged tightly, Hermione and Rodney were chatting about science and magic. Ronon and Ron were stood silently, watching John enter. There were small, sad smiles on all three men's faces. "hey" John greeted the group. He held his hand out to Ron only to be pulled into a heartfelt hug.

"I'm gonna miss you, mate," whispered Ron.

"Yeah, you too buddy," replied John, emotions chocking his voice.

"Oh, you two!" exclaimed Hermione as she too hugged John enthusiastically, "and Harry, don't you dare leave it twenty years before we see you! You know, you are always welcome, as are the rest of you!" she addressed his team, who grinned happily at her. They had all become friends and teammates over the last few weeks; united by their concern and love for John and a will to help him at all costs.

Shyly he turned and smiled at Ginny. He knew he'd miss her the most. Of all things he'd left behind all those years ago, never being with her was one of his biggest regrets. "See you Ginny," he held her in his arms, the friend who could have been more.

"I'll miss you, John. It's been nice being part of your life again," she held him back trying her best to express every thought, feeling and emotion she had for him in a tight hug.

"Its time," said Elizabeth behind the group.

"Dial it," John replied stiffly.

They stood opposite the 'gate and watched the event horizon form and the pale blue light fill the room. The witches and wizard of his past took a final glance at their old friend, trying to convey their love to him until the last as the trio stepped through and the gate shut down.

A sigh escaped John's pert lips. He really was going to miss them. "Come on, I hear we're having mystery meat stew for lunch and Carson has been banging on about you not eating enough, again!"

"Hey! I eat! What about all the cakes we had last night?" John reminded Rodney.

"Drinking a skin full of Radek's homebrew and creating cakes with you wand does not count!"

As they continued to argue down the corridor, Teyla couldn't help raising her eyebrow. Those two with never change she though and that, more than anything reassured her.

END


End file.
